Lory Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by Atari Classic
Summary: AU. My take on the Harry Potter books if Harry had a twin. Features Lory from my other story, The Aftermath.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, because someone planted the idea in my head (thanks SuperDani a.), and since then it's just been kind of bouncing around in there, here is the start of Lory Potter's story. You don't need to read The Aftermath first.

Disclaimer: Lory Potter is mine. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One

The Boy Who Lived, and his Twin Sister.

Minerva McGonagall was normally a very proper witch: she kept her graying chestnut hair pulled back in a severe bun and her hazel eyes rarely exuded humour. Her mouth even now, as the whole of the wizarding world celebrated, was set in a firm line. She'd been perched upon a stone wall outside Number Four, Privet Drive for the most part of the day, cleverly disguised as a house cat. Now she waited impatiently for the older man who'd appeared at the end of the street to approach her. First, however, he withdrew what appeared to be a small silver lighter from his cloak and clicked it twelve times: the light posts lining the street went dark one by one with each click.

"Good evening, Minerva." Albus Dumbledore smiled at the straight-backed witch, his blue eyes twinkling and his long beard blowing in the slight wind.

"Is it true, Albus? Is he really gone?" Minerva asked, ignoring pleasantries and cutting straight to the topic she'd been contemplating all day: the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

"Ah, yes. I must've passed a dozen parties on my way here." Albus nodded. He reached into his pocket, withdrawing something yellow. "Lemon drop?"

"What?" Minerva stared at his proffered hand with a wrinkled nose.

"It's a muggle treat I'm rather fond of." Dumbledore explained, popping one in his mouth.

"No, thank you." Minerva looked at Albus again. "Why are we standing out where muggles can see us? Despite the darkness, we are quite the spectacle."

The two of them did look very out of place standing in the middle of immaculate Privet Drive, she with her pointed hat and he with his long hair and beard, and half-moon glasses. Both wore long wizard's robes.

"Hagrid will be along shortly. He has Harry and Lorelai with him." Albus' voice grew heavy and his eyes lost their sparkle.

"You mean, the rumour is true?" Minerva forgot her composure momentarily, her mouth hanging open as she grasped Albus' arm. "Lily and James Potter are..."

"Dead, yes." Albus sighed heavily. He'd been fond of the young couple.

"The children survived?" Minerva blinked. No one had survived after Voldemort had decided to kill them. How could a pair of year-old babies escape that fate?

"Miraculously, yes. I have my theories on that." Albus nodded slowly. "For the time being Harry will be staying with his aunt and uncle. Lorelai will go to Alice and Frank Longbottom – Alice is her godmother, after all."

"You mean to leave the boy here?" Minerva cried, gesturing to Number Four. "But these are the worst muggles I've ever seen! The boy screamed at his mother all day long, demanding sweets and toys, and the woman gave them to him! She didn't punish him at all! You can't leave Harry alone with them, Albus."

"It is where he is safest, Minerva. Voldemort may be gone, but he most certainly has supporters still." Albus told her firmly. "Ah, here is Hagrid now."

A bright light, accompanied by a loud rumble as though from an engine descended upon them. An impossibly large man landed on the street beside the pair. He was perched atop what appeared to be a very large motorbike with a sidecar attached to it.

"Evening, Professors." The man called Hagrid swung a leg around the bike, careful not to disturb the sidecar. "Young Sirius Black borrowed me the bike. I had a bit of a time getting Lory from him though – he'd taken her on that muggle Halloween thing. Trick-or-sweeting, I think it's called."

Minerva scooped the girl up from the sidecar. Lorelai Potter was very much awake, her almond-shaped emerald eyes meeting the older woman's with a disturbing intensity. As Albus picked Harry up, Minerva made up her mind.

"Albus, they stay together." She said, her words coming out harsher than she'd intended.

"Pardon me, Minerva?" Albus met her gaze.

"You know they need to stay together." Minerva snapped, holding the bundle closer to her body against the evening damp. "They're going to need all the love they can get if you insist they're safest in that house. They've lost their parents, and those people won't provide any."

"Very well." Albus tipped his head in defeat and started up the walk. Minerva could've sworn she saw the twinkle return to those damnable blue eyes.

"Wait!" Hagrid called, his voice thick. "I'd like to say goodbye to the tykes..."

"Hagrid, this is hardly a goodbye." Albus smiled warmly at the massive man. "We shall see them in due time."

Hagrid howled in grief either which way, blubbering something about returning Sirius' bike. He flew off quickly. Minerva joined Albus at the door, setting Lorelai down next to her brother on the step. The girl's eyes now drooped, then fell shut completely.

"Come, Minerva. I've left a letter explaining things." Albus sighed for the first time looking impossibly weary. "I do wish we could leave them with someone else, but anywhere they go in the wizarding world, Harry will be recognized. He won't get a proper childhood there."

Minerva bit her tongue against the retort that had settled there – 'they won't get a proper childhood here, either'. The two of them walked back to the end of the street. Albus drew out the silver lighter-thing again, and clicked it twelve more times. The lights were restored, and the wizards disappeared with a crack.

Had either of them stayed, they would've seen a large man with thick, dark hair and very little neck open the door at dawn the next morning; would've seen him turn purple and call for his wife. They would've seen the two of them pick up the year-old twins and quickly re-enter their house, drawing the curtains shut against unwanted prying from their neighbours. Vernon and Petunia Dursley would keep the Potter children, it was decided, but they would not be happy about it.

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Nearly ten years later, Number Four, Privet Drive looked very much the same. The house and yard were still immaculately kept, and the only thing that marked the passage of time was a steady line of photographs of the same boy on the wall: a plump blond baby wearing an orange jumper, a plumper blond toddler held up by his bony blond mother, and school photos. In each, the blond boy got plumper and less happy-looking. By looking at the house, no one would've been able to tell that any children besides Dudley Dursley lived in it. The only hard evidence to the contrary was a very small photo kept on Petunia's night table of a boy who was small and skinny with messy black hair and bespectacled emerald eyes, and a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Next to the boy in the photo was a girl who was equally as small and skinny, with a fierce spark in her emerald eyes and chaotic masses of ebony curls framing her face. The Potter twins were indeed still with the Dursleys.

"Harry!" A shrill voice accompanied by frenzied rapping woke them that June morning. "Lorelai! Up! Now!"

Lory forced her eyes open with a sigh before she reached across the small gap between their beds and nudged her brother with a thin, sharp elbow. Harry groaned then felt for his glasses. The two pulled on jeans and t-shirts in stead of their pajamas, backs to one another, and emerged into the kitchen from their makeshift room. In truth, the Potter twins slept in what was meant to be a pantry, just large enough for the two single beds shoved into it against the walls and a chest of drawers between them.

"Good, you're up." Aunt Petunia cast disapproving looks at the children, her eyes lingering on the tuft of hair that always stuck up on Harry and Lory's messy braid. "Finish up breakfast. And be sure not to let anything burn. I want everything special for my Diddums' special day."

The twins exchanged dark looks as Aunt Petunia left the room. How could they have forgotten Dudley's birthday? It was only all that had been discussed for weeks. Lory twisted her braid into a loose bun, securing it with another elastic, and set the table while Harry moved to finish frying bacon. Lory had just set the last cup on the table and refilled her uncle's coffee when Dudley joined them in the kitchen with a beaming Aunt Petunia behind him.

"How many are there?" Dudley demanded, going instantly to his pile of presents on the side table.

"Thirty-six." Uncle Vernon emerged from behind his newspaper with a proud smile on his large face. "I counted them myself."

Lory and Harry sensed a tantrum coming as their cousin's face screwed up as it did when he was trying to think. Lory swigged her juice so hastily she choked a bit while Harry wolfed down his bacon. Dudley was known to turn over the table when upset.

"Thirty-six?" Dudley asked loudly. "Last year I had thirty-seven!"

"Oh, Diddy darling, we'll buy you two more presents when we're out today, how does that sound?" Aunt Petunia said swiftly, looking at her son lovingly.

"That'd make..." Dudley's face screwed up again. "Thirty-eight. Yeah, okay."

"Tyke wants his money's worth." Uncle Vernon chortled, going back behind his paper. "Just like his father."

They'd gotten through breakfast without any more trouble. Dudley unwrapped his gifts, which included a number of computer games, a cinema camera, and a racing bicycle. Why he wanted that, neither twin knew, as their cousin had no interest at all in exercise. As Dudley unwrapped the bike, the phone rang. Aunt Petunia went to get it while Dudley continued his greedy activity. Aunt Petunia came back to the table a short while later looking upset.

"That was Mrs Figg, Vernon. She's broken her leg and can't take them." she jerked her head at the twins. Their aunt and uncle often talked about them like they weren't there. "She said she was willing to take the girl, but she couldn't have two children underfoot."

Mrs Figg was the batty old woman down the street who watched the twins when the Dursleys were out. She had about a dozen cats and kept her charges entertained by showing them pictures of her previous cats, and watching old episodes of Eastenders. Lory shuddered at the prospect.

"Well, we can't very well leave him home alone." Vernon snapped, crunching up the paper in his hands. "He'd probably rob us blind, then burn the place down."

"We'll just have to let him come along and sit in the car." Petunia said resignedly.

Lory escaped the argument that she knew would happen after that: Dudley would pretend to cry and claim Harry would ruin everything, Aunt Petunia would sooth him, and Uncle Vernon would promise him more gifts. Lory stole up to the bathroom and showered quickly. As she rinsed her sudsy hair, she thought, 'Really, I'm getting the better part of the deal'.

She loved her brother dearly, but it was rare that she got time to herself, and rarer still that she didn't have one of her overbearing relatives to accuse her of being lazy and thrust a sponge or pair of hedge trimmers at her.

She rejoined her family just as Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss entered the kitchen. Aunt Petunia gestured for Lory to follow her. Lory looked at her pointedly, muttering, "Just a moment, Aunt Petunia."

Lory grabbed Harry's wrist and tugged him into the foyer. Harry was used to his sister dragging him along behind her, so he didn't ask any questions.

"If they try anything, let me know." Lory instructed. "Ickle Duddykins won't like if I tell Mummy dearest he's hit a girl."

It was true. The one thing Aunt Petunia had ever gotten truly upset with Dudley about was when she found out he'd given Lory a black eye in a schoolyard tussle. She'd shrieked that gentlemen did not hit young ladies, and taken away his dessert.

"Lory," Harry sighed, "I can fight my own battles."

"You can." Lory agreed placidly. "But you won't. You're too tenderhearted, big brother."

"Lorelai, come along." Aunt Petunia appeared in the doorway with the car keys in her hand. "Mrs Figg is waiting."

Lory stared sullenly out the window on the three block drive to the old woman's house. Aunt Petunia glanced over at her, opened her mouth, then shut it again shaking her head. The older women exchanged a few words – mostly just the approximate time the Dursleys would collect Lory – and Aunt Petunia was gone.

"Well, girl, let's put on the tea, shall we?" Mrs Figg looked at Lory expectantly. "Eastenders is due to start in a moment."

Lory followed Mrs Figg into the kitchen and sat at the table with Tibbles and Mr Paws. She scratched Mr Paws' head absently as Mrs Figg prattled on about who was now married to whom on the soap. Lory hadn't missed much in the year since she'd last seen it. They sipped chamomile tea and nibbled on stale biscuits as they watched the programme. Once it was over, Mrs Figg switched off the television and looked over at Lory.

"Would you like to hear a story, Lorelai?"

"Uh, sure Mrs Figg." Lory nodded uncertainly, thinking it'd be a story about some dear departed feline.

"Once upon a time, in a castle just a train ride away, there lived an old wizard. Now, this wizard was the most powerful of his age. He turned his castle into a school, where he taught young witches and wizards all he knew.

"One of his students harboured a hateful secret, however: He was a Dark Lord. The Dark Lord hated all those without magic, vowing to destroy them all. This dismayed the old wizard; he taught that wizards and non-magic folk were equals and could live together in peace.

"After the Dark Lord left the old wizard's castle, he recruited like-minded wizards to join his cause. He gradually gained power over the next decade until he was just as strong a wizard as his former teacher. Many people died at his hands. The Dark Lord felt no remorse, however. He thought his mission was vital.

"Then, when the Dark Lord thought himself invincible, he heard a rumour: there would be a boy, born to those who had thrice defied him, who would have the power to defeat him. The Dark Lord knew at once who this boy was, and set out to find him. When the old wizard heard of this, he immediately placed the boy and his family in a safe place. For many months the Dark Lord searched and could not find the boy. The old wizard had put many enchantments around the place the boy was staying.

"Then on Halloween, something unexpected happened: one of the family's dearest friends betrayed them. The Dark Lord appeared at the safe house and killed the father in a duel, then advanced to the nursery where the mother was barricaded with the boy. The Dark Lord gave her a choice to hand over the boy so she herself could live, but she loved her son too much to allow him to die. She sacrificed herself so that he might live. When the Dark Lord turned his wand on the boy, something strange happened: his curse rebounded and struck the Dark Lord.

"Some say it was love that ended the Dark Lord, seeing as he didn't have any in his heart. Some say that it was the boy's sheer power. Either way, it was the end of him. They boy was placed with his family, where he grew up until he was old enough to go to the old wizard's school. And as they say, he lived happily ever after, with a few minor speed bumps."

Lory had been listening intently to Mrs Figg's story. She knew it was farfetched; magic wasn't real. There was something about the tale, however that seemed uncomfortably familiar. Mrs Figg didn't allow for any questions to be asked and instead turned the television back on. Eastenders was playing again. Lory sighed and settled in to watch.

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Lory was collected by Aunt Petunia earlier than expected. She was bundled into the car and had to sit between Harry and Dudley. Piers had already been dropped off. Harry looked extremely confused and a little angry, while Dudley looked terrified. Lory shot a questioning look at her twin, who mouthed 'later'.

Once they'd arrived back home, an ashen Vernon grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck and shoved him towards the kitchen.

"You. Pantry. Stay." He rasped.

Lory was impressed. Whatever Harry had done had left their uncle speechless. Vernon Dursley was many things, but speechless was not one of them. The two of them entered their pantry, lying down on their beds. For a while, both were silent. Harry stared at the ceiling while Lory studied her brother.

"What'd you do?" She asked finally.

"I talked to a snake. Then Dudley fell into the exhibit. The snake escaped." Harry said flatly.

Lory couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. Harry glared at her. She collected herself and sat up on the bed, fidgeting with her hair.

"I'm sorry. It's not really that funny. But Mrs Figg told me a story whilst I was there. It was about magic. The way she told it made it seem like magic was real." Lory sighed, beginning to braid her long tresses.

"Magic isn't real, Lory." Harry spat.

"Oh, so you talking to a snake is perfectly reasonable, but magic is bullocks?" Lory snapped back, a little stun by the vehemence in Harry's words.

"It's not like the snake could understand me!" Harry retorted, but colour rose in his cheeks. Lory knew he was lying. "Besides, if magic were real, mum and dad wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be here!"

The twins glared at one another, then each rolled so that they were facing the wall. It was the end to their conversation for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: SuperDani, all questions will be answered in due time.

Also, the song Lory plays on the recorder is the Harry Potter theme.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Lory Potter. Harry, Hogwarts, and all other things magical are J.K. Rowling's.

**Chapter Two**

The Keeper of the Keys

Lory Potter was still keeping up her silent treatment of Harry four days later. Harry had tried to apologize to her, but she was still mad at him for shouting at her. He shrugged. He knew she'd calm down sooner or later. She always did. Unfortunately, she also had a habit of throwing things at him when he tried to talk to her at her angriest. Fortunately, she had awful aim. The twins now had a collection of scuffed shoes and a slightly dented wall in their pantry.

On the fourth morning of Lory's silent treatment, she was helping Aunt Petunia with breakfast. She was bringing a heavy tray laden with a pitcher of orange juice, a carafe of coffee, and plates of kippers and toast when Harry entered the dining room. He had the mail in his hands and a scowl on his face. Lory guessed that Uncle Vernon had gotten Dudley to prod his cousin with the cane that had come with the massive boy's new school uniform until Harry had gone for the mail. It was becoming all too common. Harry handed their uncle a stack of brown envelopes, which had him grumbling over bills. Lory noticed with a quirked eyebrow that Harry had kept two envelopes back. She set the contents of her tray on the table as Harry slid one of the remaining letters to her: the envelope was strange, made of a thick parchment and sealed with crimson wax. There was an emblem set in the wax: A letter 'H', surrounded by a badger, a snake, a lion, and a raven.

Lory picked up the letter, flipping it around to see the address line. Her emerald eyes widened as she read it: 'Miss L. Potter, Pantry-off-the-kitchen, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey'. She exchanged a glance with Harry, who had been staring at his own envelope. She was easing a nail beneath the wax seal when suddenly Dudley gave a shout.

"Dad, they've got letters!"

Vernon's eyes snapped over to the twins, and his face went pale when he noticed what was in their hands. The colour returned quickly, turning his face an angry purple. His moustache bristled. Harry and Lory were both convinced he'd explode from his fury before he could even shout. Lory didn't think that would be such a bad thing. She went back to opening the letter and got a paper cut as Vernon snatched it away from her. He had Harry's in his other hand, and quickly opened it.

"PETUNIA!" He screamed after reading the first line.

"What is it, Vernon?" Aunt Petunia came into the dining room from the kitchen, a towel in her hands and a frown on her face. The frown became a look of fear and recognition as she spotted the letters in her husband's clenched fists.

"No." She whispered, dropping the towel and falling into a kitchen chair with a thump.

"When we took them in, we swore we'd stamp it out of them, Petunia. And we will." Uncle Vernon muttered. He seemed to notice the children were still in the room as Dudley made a grab at one of the letters. "OUT. All of you, out!"

The three scrambled to do as they were told. Dudley didn't even protest after taking a glance at his father's face. Once safely out in the hall, Lory took a seat on the stairs while the boys had a silent battle over who would listen at the keyhole. Dudley won, being much larger and taller than Harry. He peered through the keyhole while Harry lay flat on the floor, trying to see through the crack under the door. Lory was about to tell them that they were being stupid when the door reopened. Aunt Petunia gave Harry a disgusted look as he pulled himself up into a standing position, and then her face softened into an apologetic one when she turned her gaze to her son.

"Come along, then. Your uncle wishes to speak to you in the sitting room." Aunt Petunia didn't look either of the twins in the eye when she spoke. Instead, she fixed on a spot above Lory's head on the stairs.

The Potters exchanged confused looks before both shrugged and followed their aunt to the next room. Dudley trailed after them, obviously curious about what kind of trouble they were in now. The twins perched on the loveseat, while Aunt Petunia and Dudley sat on the sofa. Uncle Vernon was seated in a large armchair, a brandy glass in his hand. He was silent for a long moment, his moustache bristling.

"You'll be moving into Dudley's second bedroom." Uncle Vernon said, pointing to Harry.

Dudley began shouting that he needed that room. The twins exchanged a glance, Lory rolling her eyes and Harry raising his eyebrows. They had hardly noticed that Uncle Vernon was ignoring his son's protests, which his mother was trying to quieten. Dudley's second bedroom was filled with things he couldn't possibly need, but had anyway: broken toys, dusty books, three televisions.

"And you. You'll be staying in the guest bedroom. You can bunk with him when we've actual guests." Vernon turned his fat finger on Lory. "Get a move on, then."

Harry and Lory retreated into the kitchen. Neither said a word. It didn't take them long to pack and move into their new rooms. Each only had a handful of personal items, plus clothes that clearly came from a secondhand store. Lory was standing at the window in her new room, ignoring the dreadful décor. The walls were a light taupe. She thought the shade more resembled butterscotch than anything, but her aunt refused to hear that her walls looked like food. The room was trimmed with white: white baseboards, white moldings, and white lacy curtains at the window. The bed frame was white, with the palest blue comforter Lory had ever seen.

"Lor." Harry stuck his head in the door.

"I want my letter back." Lory said softly. "It was addressed to me."

"I know." Harry murmured back, sitting on the firm mattress and wincing when it creaked. "If I thought it'd do me any good, I'd ask Uncle Vernon for them."

"But it won't." Lory stated, still looking out the window. "Why do you suppose they moved us out of the pantry?"

"Probably because of how the letters were addressed." Harry shrugged. "If whoever sent them knew we were living in a pantry, they'd know that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't treating us very well, wouldn't they? And if there's anything they hate more than us, it's having their reputation slandered."

"You're right." Lory sighed, turning away from her view of the street and crossing to sit beside her brother. "I suppose I suppose I forgive you for shouting at me last week."

"I suppose I forgive you for throwing your shoe at me." Harry replied with a small laugh.

The twins smiled at one another. They didn't often do such things: laughing and joking were punishable offences in this household. The Dursleys didn't seem to want either to be happy. They did their best to keep them miserable, but the siblings had their own private jokes that they indulged in when they were alone. Most were at Dudley's or Uncle Vernon's expense.

"Well... I suppose we should come up with some sort of plan to get those letters back." Lory said finally.

"Don't bother."

The twins looked towards the door. Uncle Vernon was standing there with a nasty, triumphant smile on his large face. Neither of them liked the expression much.

"I've burnt them." Uncle Vernon turned and went down the stairs, whistling.

"How dare he?" Lory shouted, balling her small fists in fury.

"Because he's a git." Harry said softly.

Lory whipped her head around to look at her brother, about to tell him off for being so calm. Her words died on her lips though, when she saw the anger in his eyes. She'd never seen him this mad before. Not even when Dudley and his gang used him as a punching bag.

"Well," Lory said slowly, "we'll find a way to find out what was in those letters. Both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia read them, and they must've been scared by what was in them. Why else would they give us actual bedrooms?"

"Yeah, you're right." Harry nodded.

"Potter! Go shower. We've chores for you." Aunt Petunia appeared in the doorway now. "Lorelai, be ready to go in half an hour. I need you to do a bit of shopping."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." The twins chorused.

Harry left the room with a small scowl. Aunt Petunia let him pass, but remained in the doorway for a long moment, looking at Lory intently. The girl was about to speak up when her aunt gave a little start. Petunia shook her head and ventured back down the hall, murmuring something to herself. All Lory caught out of the sentence was 'so much like Lily'. Lory didn't know what her aunt meant, and rather than trouble herself with it, took out a small, cheap wooden flute she'd knicked from Dudley's second bedroom a few years previously.

"He doesn't even like music." she'd told Harry when he'd asked what Dudley would say when he discovered it missing. They'd both chuckled a bit at the prospect of Dudley noticing anything going missing in the abyss of his second bedroom.

Now, as Harry left the room, she began playing a random tune. It had been perpetually stuck in her head, for as long as she could remember. The repetition was beginning to drive her brother mad and she wasn't sure if she was playing it because she enjoyed it, or because she enjoyed annoying him. Either way, she felt genuinely happy when she played the recorder. She played the piece for a good twenty minutes before Uncle Vernon shouted at her to 'stop the bloody racket'. Lory set the instrument down with a sigh and stretched out on her new bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating what this new room would mean to her.

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Over the course of the next several weeks, Uncle Vernon intercepted a great many more letters addressed to the twins. They kept coming despite Uncle Vernon's best efforts to stop them: he'd nailed the mail slot shut: the letters came through the gap beneath the door. He nailed the door shut: the letters came through the window in the downstairs loo. Then, when Aunt Petunia was cracking eggs to make biscuits, instead of yoke she found letters inside each shell. This nearly gave Uncle Vernon a psychotic breakdown. Finally, after a stream of letters came shooting out the fireplace one Sunday afternoon, Uncle Vernon packed them all in the car and drove off, muttering under his breath and making several illegal u-turns.

"Dad, where are we going?" Dudley whined on the second day of their trip. "It's Monday. The Magnificent Umberto is on Mondays."

Lory and Harry exchanged a glance. Trust Dudley to know the day of the week by a television programme. Aunt Petunia kept silent for once, looking at Uncle Vernon as though she feared for his sanity. Lory feared he'd already lost it.

Some time later, the family found themselves being rowed out to a small hut on a rock in the middle of a lake. Harry and Lory did most of the rowing, while Uncle Vernon clutched a long, thin package and Aunt Petunia clutched Dudley. Both twins grumbled about their clearly insane uncle, and after nearly an hour, reached their destination just as it was beginning to rain. Uncle Vernon shepherded them all inside.

The hut was dingy. The floor was made of dirt, the hearth was black, and as far as Lory could tell, there was only one bedroom set to the back of the sitting room. In the sitting room itself was one threadbare sofa.

"Right then." Uncle Vernon said cheerfully. "Let's see the ruddy post make it out here."

The evening was very quiet. Uncle Vernon distributed a packet of crisps and a slightly soggy sandwich to each of them. Shortly afterward, Aunt Petunia made up a bed for Dudley on the couch and gave Lory and Harry each a very thin blanket. They curled the cloth around themselves, lying very close to one another on the floor. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon retired into the bedroom. Soon the hut was filled with snores. Dudley's fat arm hung off the edge of the couch, the digital watch around his wrist glowing an eerie green, and Lory watched it as the numbers changed, gradually getting closer to midnight. She was rather mesmerized with it when Harry nudged her sharply in the side. She blinked and turned towards him to tell him off when she noticed he was pointing at something.

"Lore, look." He whispered, indicating a rough drawing on the floor.

"What's that meant to be?" Lory asked softly, squinting at it. "It looks a bit like an ice hockey puck. But why's it got spikes sticking out of it?"

"It's a cake." Harry said flatly. "Since it's our birthday in a few minutes."

"Is it? I've completely lost track of the days." Lory confessed. "Alright then. Make a wish."

Dudley's watched beeped quietly as it struck midnight. The twins blew out their pretend candles, each wishing they did not live with the Dursleys. Then, a booming knock came from the rickety door. Dudley sat straight up, and the twins turned wide eyes towards the portal. Harry scrambled to put his glasses back on while Dudley said, "Where's the cannon?"

Uncle Vernon appeared at the bedroom door with Aunt Petunia behind him, a shotgun in his quivering hands as a second knock was issued. Lory and Harry glanced at the gun, then at one another. They supposed that's what had been in the thin package. At the third knock, the door fell flat.

"Sorry 'bout that." A giant stood in the doorframe.

The giant came in and picked up the door again, setting it to rights. He turned to the sitting room and looked at Dudley with a frown on his face. "Budge up, then."

Dudley scrambled to stand with his parents. Both of the elder Dursleys were looking at the new arrival in horror, Uncle Vernon's hands shaking now more than ever.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" Uncle Vernon cried. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Oh, dry up, Dursley." The giant growled, reaching over and bending the muzzle of the shotgun up. He then muttered, "Great prune."

The Dursleys were apparently too frightened to say or do anything else, as they fell silent. Aunt Petunia clutched Dudley close to her. Uncle Vernon stood in front of the both of them, his bulk hiding them sufficiently. The twins were goggling at the massive man on the sofa before them. The man in question turned to them, his beetle-black eyes shining.

"I haven't seen either of ye since ye were about as big as me hands." He said wetly.

The twins looked at his hands. They were roughly the size of dustbin lids. Lory turned her gaze towards the giant's face once more and summoned her courage.

"Excuse me, but... do we know you?" She asked, trying to sound polite.

"Oh, ye wouldn't remember me." the giant pulled what looked to be a tablecloth from a pocket on his coat and dabbed at his eyes. He mustered a smile. "Ye were only babies last we met. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But ye'll know all about that."

"Excuse me, where?" Harry spoke up, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

"Hogwarts." Hagrid's smile slid off his face. "Didn't ye get yer letters?"

At the twins' denial, Hagrid looked positively thunderous. He turned to Uncle Vernon and rose, towering over the cowering man.

"DURSLEY!" He roared. "How can these children not know who they are?"

"Well," Uncle Vernon started shakily.

Hagrid ignored him, turning back to the Potters. "Yer a wizard, Harry. And you, Lory, are a witch."

"What?" They asked in unison, still completely perplexed.

"Young witches and wizards go to school to study magic the September that they turn eleven. Ye two will be goin' to Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore. He's the finest headmaster the school's ever had, ye know." Hagrid said proudly. "Yer names have been down since ye were born."

"So... our parents were magical too?" Lory asked.

"Of course." Hagrid's frown was back.

"Then why didn't they stop the car crash?" Harry wondered.

"Car crash? A car crash, kill Lily and James Potter?" Hagrid turned back to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

"Stop right there." Uncle Vernon demanded hoarsely, his face turning an angry purple despite his fear. "We took them in ten years ago because their mother was Petunia's sister, but we swore we'd stamp that nonsense out of them. We'll not be paying for them to go to some school taught by a crackpot old - "

Uncle Vernon didn't get any farther in his tirade, however. Hagrid leaped up with a roar and pointed his pink umbrella at Dudley, yelling, "NEVER INSULT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

A flash of light erupted from the tip of the umbrella and struck Dudley, who clasped his bottom tightly and ran into the bedroom with a squeal. His parents followed, white faced. Hagrid looked a bit embarrassed, and settled himself back onto the sofa. When he looked back at the twins, he saw two pairs of emerald eyes staring at him in awe.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper. I meant to turn him into a pig, but I suppose he's already enough like one he was just missing the tail." Hagrid said, blushing. "Right. Well, let's get a fire started. Oh, and I've brought you a bit of a gift. I may've sat on it at some point, but it'll taste alright all the same."

Hagrid produced a slightly squashed box from another pocket on his coat and set it down before the Potters. They opened it carefully as the man busied himself with the grate, poking the pink umbrella at it. Soon, a fire was crackeling merrily, and a cake was revealed to be sitting in the box. 'Happy Birthday Harry & Lory' was written on it in blue icing.

"Thank you." Lory mumbled, touched that this man had gone to such trouble.

"This is our first cake." Harry added, looking up at the giant. "Well, aside from the one our parents might've gotten us when we turned one."

Hagrid said nothing, just swept the two of them up in a huge, back-breaking hug. Lory squeaked. Harry seemed to have the breath knocked out of him. But both thought it was nice, all the same, to have someone bestow such affection on them.

After a slice of cake each, Hagrid draped his coat over the two and told them to get their rest, as they had a day of shopping ahead of them. Both children were too tired to ask any questions, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

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A/N 2: I know. It's rushed, and kind of lousy at points. But I need to stress that the summary DOES say AU, and it took me literally four re-writes over the past few weeks to get this somewhat decent. I included all the essential info (I think), and I hope you'll forgive any slip-ups.

Thanks for reading this, I hope you all enjoy it. Review? And please, no flames. My fragile ego can't take that. Constructive criticism, my friends, is appreciated. :)

-Atari


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry I suck at updating. Here's this month's chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Or anything else you may recognize.

Chapter Three

Diagon Alley and the Platform

The next morning, Lory woke up using her brother's back as a pillow. The large moleskin coat was still draped over them. She was instantly brightened up by the thought of the giant man and sat up slowly. She swiftly re-plaited her hair, combing her fingers through the worst of the tangles. Then, a tapping sounded from the window. Harry stirred.

"He'll want payin'." Hagrid rumbled from the sagging sofa.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up with a startled expression.

"The owl." Lory got up and padded across the room to let the bird in.

It flew directly Harry, dropping a rolled up newspaper on his head. The boy frowned, reaching for his glasses as the owl held out its leg expectantly. A small leather pouch was tied there.

"Give him five knuts – the little bronze ones. They're in the pocket there." Hagrid sat up and busied himself at the grate once more.

The twins looked at the jacket, then at one another with identical skeptical expressions on their faces. The jacket seemed to be made of nothing but pockets. Rather than troubling Hagrid, who was now busy frying sausages on a lively fire, Harry rummaged through various pockets. After going through five which contained everything from tea bags to live dormice, Harry pulled out a handful of strange looking coins. He sorted out five of the smallest bronze ones and deposited them in the patient owl's coin sack. The owl gave a soft hoot and flew out of the hut.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, and once they were finished, the twins followed Hagrid out to the small boat they'd arrived in the night before. The large man looked furtively about before bending to the twin's level conspiratorially.

"Strictly speaking, I'm not to do magic now I've got the two of you, but if you promise not to tell anybody..." Hagrid looked at them expectantly, trailing off. The children nodded their silent agreement., and Hagrid relaxed.

They piled into the boat, Lory cringing slightly when Hagrid clambered in. the rickety old boat then creaked and tipped ominously. In the end, Hagrid prodded it with his pink umbrella and muttered something. The boat started off all on its own. The man handed each twin a piece of parchment, explaining that it was their school supply lists. Then he opened his newspaper while the children gaped at him, letters loosely grasped in their hands.

"How...?" Lory started to ask, trailing off uncertainly as she caught sight of the odd newspaper in Hagrid's hands. "The paper's wonky."

"How's it wonky?" Harry asked, peering at the item in question.

"The picture was moving." Lory explained, still fixated on the paper.

"Wizarding pictures do that." Hagrid shrugged. "Now take a look at those lists before we get there."

Some time later the boat docked at shore. Hagrid let the twins out first, then joined them on dry land. Harry suddenly halted with a frown, not more than three steps from the boat.

"Hagrid, how are we to pay for school, or school supplies? We've no money, and I doubt Uncle Vernon would pay for it." He asked.

"Ye don't think Lily and James left ye with nothing, do ye?" Hagrid asked, shocked. "Yer inheritance is locked up in Gringott's Bank. It's the safest place in our world for yer valuables – except for Hogwarts, of course."

"What makes this bank so safe?" Lory wanted to know, thinking of how banks were on the news after break-ins all the time.

"It's run by goblins." Hagrid replied, continuing along the dock to the stairs up to the street. "And some of the older, high security vaults are rumoured to be guarded by dragons."

"Dragons?" Harry and Lory squeaked simultaneously.

"Yeah. You'd be mad to try ter break in." Hagrid nodded, steering the Potters down a sparsely-occupied dock market street. It was a Tuesday morning, but evidently people didn't have much need for fish at this particular location. "I'd love a dragon."

The twins exchanged an incredulous look before Lory said dryly, "I'd rather have a kitten. They're far less likely to set my hair on fire."

"Right. Let's keep the talk of mythical creatures under our hats while the muggles are about." Hagrid seemed to remember where they were and glanced around nervously.

"What are muggles, Hagrid?" Harry asked quietly, also glancing about. "You called Uncle Vernon one, too."

"Muggles are the non-magic folk. They're not ter know anythin' 'bout our world." Hagrid explained, turning a corner and leading them to the nearest underground station. "Now, would one of you help me with this muggle money? It's too similar-looking."

Harry took the wad of bills from the giant and bought the three of them tickets. The tube ride was uneventful. Lory and Harry watched in awe as Hagrid pulled out a pair of knitting needles and a great yellow... thing from his bag. Lory stifled a giggle at the sight of the wild-looking man doing something as domestic as knitting. Before either child knew it, they were in central London and Hagrid was leading them up into the gloomy grey daylight. They passed a few department stores, and Harry sneaked a confused look at Lor. She was sure her twin was thinking along the same lines as she was and tugged gently on Hagrid's sleeve.

"Uh, Hagrid? Where are we going to find a shop that sells our school things in London? I was looking at the supply list this morning, and it had spell books, and a wand..." Lory trailed off, not wanting to attract the attention of the muggles.

"We're going to Diagon Alley for that. It's got our sort of shops." Hagrid replied, turning them down a shady-looking street.

Lory and Harry stuck a bit closer to Hagrid. There were a few people walking down the sidewalks, but it was mostly deserted. Lory glanced around at the shops, noting an incredibly shabby looking pub sandwiched between a bakery and a record shop. She also noticed that most people's eyes slid from the former to the latter, seeming not to see the pub at all.

"Hagrid..." Lory said softly. "Can't those people see the pub?"

"Good eye, Lorelai." Hagrid beamed down at the girl. "Tha's the Leaky Cauldron. Diagon Alley is through there. Muggles can't be noticing it."

Harry gave a soft whistle, and the twins followed Hagrid into the pub.

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Two hours later, the twins were entering a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Lory was quite cross – when they'd entered The Leaky Cauldron, all the patrons had fawned over Harry, thanking him for defeating the Dark Lord when he was a baby. Lory had been shunted to the side, and felt really quite hurt despite Harry's bewildered glances to her. Hagrid had placed a giant hand on her shoulder and tried to get the twins out of the pub as quickly as possible. Lory only really remembered one man that had clamored to shake Harry's hand – Professor Quirrell, who'd trembled and stuttered, and was to be one of their teachers at Hogwarts. She didn't think much of him, but knew better than to say anything aloud.

After the pub, Hagrid had taken them to the wizard bank. They'd collected some gold for their supplies, then Hagrid had picked up a grubby little package from an otherwise empty vault. Lory had thought it curious, but at the time was too preoccupied with not vomiting from motion sickness to care too much. Harry had rubbed her back, but then the cart they'd been riding to the underground vaults started moving again, and they both just held on for dear life.

Now Hagrid was off to get them ice cream – he'd been more sick than Lory had been. The Potters stood awkwardly in the entrance of the robe shop, wondering if they should seek out a saleswoman, or if the saleswoman would find them. Then Harry nudged Lory gently, pointing to another boy just a few feet away from them. He was slightly obscured by a rack, which is why they hadn't seen him at first. He appeared to be standing on a stool, being fitted for school robes. He was blonde, pale, and had a particularly nasty look on his face. Lory supposed she might've found him attractive if he looked just a little kinder.

"Oh, hello dears." An older woman wearing deep purple robes appeared before the children. "Off to Hogwarts are you? Yes, we've got another being fitted up. Well, this way, then!"

Feeling a bit dazed, Harry followed the woman, standing on the stool that she pointed at. Lory waited patiently for her turn, looking at the many racks of robes. The woman took Harry's measurements and dashed off to find suitable attire for the boy. As soon as she'd disappeared, the blonde boy turned to Harry.

"Hullo," the blonde said, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes." Harry replied, while Lory glanced up from the rack.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy said. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

The twins exchanged a dark look: they were reminded strongly of Dudley.

"Have either of you got your own broom?"

"No." Harry shook his head.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No." Lory repeated her brother. They both wondered what in the world 'Quidditch' was.

"I do – father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" The blonde boy looked at the twins, but there hadn't been any hint of kindness in his question – he wasn't trying to be their friend.

"No." The Potters said together, both feeling really very stupid.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin – all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff? I imagine I'd leave."

"Mm." Lory hummed, not trusting herself to speak. She thought she might say something she'd regret later if she opened her mouth.

"I say, look at that man!" the blonde said suddenly, nodding toward the window. Hagrid was standing there, holding three ice creams rather precariously.

"Harry, your measurements have been taken. Why not go and help him?" Lory murmured.

"Yeah." Harry nodded and got off the stool. He paused near the door to pass Lory the money bag, and to tell the other boy, "That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

"I've heard of him." The boy shrugged disdainfully. "He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper." Harry said shortly, and left the shop. Lory got the distinct impression that her twin liked this boy even less than she did.

"Yes. A sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." The boy carried on as though he hadn't noticed Harry leave. Lory thought maybe he hadn't.

"Well, we think he's brilliant." Lory snapped.

"Do you?" asked the boy with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead." Lory said, her tone becoming frosty. She wasn't about to elaborate with this twit.

"Sorry." The boy said, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were OUR kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." Lory had stepped up onto the stool to await the shop keep, and was pointedly looking away from the boy.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Lory had a chance to answer, Madam Malkin (the woman who ran the shop) bustled up and said, "Your turn, love. Where did your brother run off to?"

"He's outside with our chaperone. I've got our money, ma'am."

Glad to have an excuse not to talk to the blonde boy, Lory finished with her measurements, collected the bag with her and her brother's robes, and paid the smiling woman. She joined Harry and Hagrid outside, and the group ate their ice cream in relative silence.

"What's wrong with you lot?" Hagrid asked finally after they'd gotten their supplies of parchment, quills, and ink.

"Nothing." The twins said simultaneously.

"Hagrid, what's Quidditch?" Harry asked after a moment.

"What's..." Hagrid looked shocked, then shook his head. "I keep forgettin you two were raised by muggles."

"Don't make us feel worse, Hagrid!" Lory moaned.

Harry began to tell Hagrid about the boy at Madam Malkin's, with Lory jumping in every now and then with details Harry had forgotten.

"And then he said people from muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in!" Lory exclaimed.

"Stop that. You're not from a muggle family. If he'd known who you were – he'd have grown up hearing Harry's name, just like the rest of the wizard world – you saw them back at the pub." Hagrid snorted.

"So... What is Quidditch?" Harry got back to his original question.

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch. It's played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – kinda hard ter explain the rules." Hagrid explained.

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" Lory queried.

"School houses. There are four of them. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a load of duffers, but..." Hagrid was interrupted by Harry, who groaned.

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff."

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin." Hagrid muttered darkly. "There's not an evil witch or wizard who wasn't in Slytherin."

After their brief, but reassuring, conversation, the group bought school books at a shop called Flourish and Blotts. There were more books there than Lory had ever seen before: large tomes, tiny, silk-covered volumes, leather-bound novels. Even Dudley would have enjoyed himself in this store, and he never read voluntarily. Hagrid nearly had to drag Harry away from a few books full of curses.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley." The boy admitted sheepishly.

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After several more shops, the supply list was nearly covered. Hagrid was reading over it again, when his great, bushy head snapped up.

"I still have to get you two a birthday gift."

The twins blushed bright red, stammering that he needn't go to the trouble.

"I know I don't have to. Tell you what. I'll get the both of you an animal. Lory, you said you wanted a kitten – they make me sneeze, but if it'd make you happy, that's what you'll get. And Harry... you don't need another cat. And toads went out of style years ago. I'll get you an owl. All kids want owls, they're dead useful. Carry your post and everything." Hagrid bestowed a large grin on the children.

Twenty minutes later, the group left Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Harry now carried a large cage which held a snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing, while Lory carried a basket with a tiny grey kitten. Neither could stop thanking Hagrid, both of them tripping over their words and sounding much like Professor Quirrel.

"Don't mention it." Hagrid said gruffly. "I don't expect you've had too many presents from the Dursley's. Now let's get your wands. Ollivander's is the best in Britain."

Lory and Harry exchanged excited looks. They'd been waiting for their magic wands since they'd woken up that morning and realized this whole experience hadn't been a dream.

The shop itself was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. When the trio walked into the shop, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths. There was a single spindly chair in an otherwise empty room, and Hagrid sat on it to wait. The twins felt a bit like they were in a very strict library.

"Good afternoon." said a soft voice. Harry and Lory jumped, and Hagrid must have jumped too, because there was a loud crunch and he quickly got off the chair.

"Hullo." The twins chorused, looking at the old man standing before them. He had wide, pale eyes that shone like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Ah, yes." The man said, nodding absently. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. And Lorelai Potter." It wasn't a question. "You both have your mother's eyes. It seems like only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice for charms work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to the twins. Lory wished he would just blink already. Those silvery eyes were creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand who chooses the wizard, of course."

By now Mr Ollivander had come so close that he was nose-to-nose with Harry. The boy could see himself reflected in the older man's misty eyes. The man touched Harry's scar with one long, white finger.

"That's where..." Mr Ollivander shook himself. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands..."

Again the old man shook himself. "But you, Miss Potter, will find this quite suitable, I believe."

He withdrew from a shelf behind his desk a long, slender box. He offered it to Lory, who took it with a hand that trembled slightly. She opened it, and picked up the wand that was nestled inside. Instantly she felt a surge of warmth that seemed to be coming from the wand itself.

"Yes, yes. I'd thought so." Mr Ollivander looked pleased. "Ten and a quarter inches long, rosewood. A very rare phoenix flight feather at the core."

"And it's chosen me?" Lory managed, still staring at the wand.

"Quite." Mr Ollivander turned back to Harry. "Now, Mr Potter..."

And so began the very long process of finding Harry a wand. Rather than getting frustrated as the piles of discarded wands around the boy grew, Mr Ollivander seemed downright giddy. Finally, the old man took down a box, murmuring, "Curious, curious."

"What's curious, sir?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"This wand. Unusual combination – holly and phoenix tail feather." Ollivander handed the box over to Harry. "Give it a swish."

Harry did so, and red and gold sparks flew out the tip. He felt a strange relief at having found a wand. He was getting concerned that he wasn't actually a wizard, given that his twin had found hers instantly.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter, and the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand only gave one other." Mr Ollivander said softly. "Its brother gave you that scar."

Hagrid cleared his throat, as Lory and Harry stared at Mr Ollivander in mild horror. How could such a nice man have sold a wand to such a monster?

"Right. Sorry, Mr Ollivander, but I've got to get these two home." Hagrid said, moving towards the register.

"Of course, of course." Mr Ollivander joined the giant there. "Now, that will come to... fifty-seven galleons, four sickles, and seven knuts."

Lory gave the man the amount he'd asked for, and the trio left the shop. Weighed down as they were by an owl cage, a cat basket, and many, many bags of school supplies, they didn't talk much, but rather enjoyed a companionable, contemplative silence to the Leaky Cauldron.

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A/N: I'd originally intended to put Platform 9 ¾ in here too, but my brain is literally drained right now. And again I'm sorry about not updating for two months – I recently found out my dad has cancer, and it's been kind of stressful around here. But I'll try to get Platform 9 ¾ up soon – because that's where we meet our favourite Weasley!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, folks. This is me, trying to be better about not procrastinating (even though I'm currently procrastinating going to bed. Sleep is for the weak).

Disclaimer: I don't really own anything in this chapter except for Lory. No songs or quotes from musicals are mine.

P.S. Try to find the line from A Very Potter Musical in this chapter – it's my favourite part of the thing :)

Chapter Three

Hogwarts Bound

The rest of the summer was relatively uneventful. The Dursleys avoided Harry and Lory, which actually suited them just fine. While Uncle Vernon did not approve of Harry's pet – too abnormal – and just generally didn't like Lory's – cats smell – he allowed for them to stay. Harry's owl, which he'd named Hedwig, was to remain caged at all times. Lory's cat was to stay in her room. Lory had a sneaking suspicion that Aunt Petunia was rather fond of her kitten, as the woman had gone out and bought kitty litter and a cat box shortly after the twins were returned to Privet Drive.

Lory read a few of her new books while she waited for September first to arrive. Her cat remained nameless for a full week before she found an appropriate name – Apollo, after the Greek god of music. The animal had pranced around the room as though it was dancing when she played her cheap little recorder the week after she'd brought him home. She'd laughed and decided then that he must be her cat if he loved music as she did.

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry said timidly one day near the end of August, entering the sitting room where the bulky man was reading the evening paper. Lory stood just behind her brother.

Uncle Vernon said nothing, but grunted, which Harry took as a sign to continue.

"We've got to catch the train day after next, at King's Cross. Could you take us there?" Harry asked, his tone hopeful.

"Why would I do that? It's encouraging your freak side." Uncle Vernon didn't even look up from his paper.

"You'd do it because it'd mean you could get rid of us for ten months." Lory replied softly. "And you're going to London anyway. I heard Aunt Petunia tell Dudley he was seeing a doctor to get that tail removed."

Uncle Vernon slammed the paper down. "It's your ruddy fault that Dudley has that tail in the first place. D'you think he wants to be in the same car as the two of you for a trip to London? No. Besides, we're shipping the two of you off to a boarding school far, far away."

"If you don't take us..." Harry hesitated, trying to come up with a threat that would actually work on Uncle Vernon.

"We'll tell." Lory finished, locking eyes with her uncle, whose face was turning a mottled purple in anger.

"Tell what?" Vernon sneered, but his face was now draining of colour.

"We'll tell the neighbours what we are." Lory shrugged. "I'm sure they wouldn't think you were unusual in the slightest, having a niece and nephew who were a witch and wizard."

"Alright! I'll take you." Uncle Vernon exclaimed swiftly. "But only because we're already going to London."

The twins thanked their uncle politely and retreated back to Harry's room, where they each picked up a school book. Harry continued to read A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, while Lory read Hogwarts: A History, which didn't appear to have an author. She was enthralled with the castle, and she was very much looking forward to exploring its halls for herself. She glanced over at the piece of paper Harry had taped to the wall beside his bed where he'd been crossing off the days to September first. Her spirits rose exponentially at the sight of all those crossed off dates. In a mere forty-eight hours, she would be on a train that would take her far from here.

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"What platform did you say you were leaving from, eh?" Uncle Vernon asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had filled the car through the drive to London.

"Um. Platform 9 ¾." Harry replied, glancing at the heavy parchment ticket in his hand.

"Platform 9 ¾?" Uncle Vernon turned around to look at the twins with his usual scowl. "What are you going on about, boy?"

"That's the platform the ticket says." Harry shrugged.

Uncle Vernon pulled into the parking lot at King's Cross Station. He parked near the entrance, told Aunt Petunia he'd be back shortly, then shunted the twins out of the car. Lory and Harry exchanged a bewildered look as their uncle loaded two trolleys with their luggage and pet supplies. He even went as far as to roll Lory's cart into the building for her.

"Something's up." Lory whispered, and her brother nodded vigorously.

"Well, there you have it." Uncle Vernon announced, stopping in between platforms nine and ten. "There's no such thing as Platform 9 ¾."

With that, the large man walked off chortling. Lory stared after him in disbelief. Harry just sighed and looked at their tickets again. They still said the same thing. He didn't know what to do, so he rolled his cart back and forth moodily.

"I'll be right back, Harry. Watch Apollo, alright?" Lory glanced around the crowded platform until she spotted a ticket-taker.

"Where are you going?" Harry called after her as she walked off. She just waved over her shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir?" Lory came up to the ticket-taker timidly.

"Yes, miss?" The man asked, glancing down. "Where are your parents?"

"My aunt and uncle are my guardians. They're seeing off my cousin down the way. But I was wondering where Platform 9 ¾ was?" Lory blushed when he looked at her critically.

"Always the same. September first rolls around, the kids all go back to school, and you get all sorts who think they're funny." The man rolled his eyes. "Run back to your aunt and uncle, little girl. They'll sort you out."

The ticket-taker walked away muttering about 'little blighters'. Lory returned to her cart and her brother. Both were as she'd left them. Lory told Harry what she'd learned from the ticket-taker – absolutely nothing. They were musing about how they could find their way to Hogwarts when they heard a snatch of conversation a little way down the platform.

"It's the same year after year. Packed with Muggles..."

Both twins swiveled around and saw a pack of redheads moving down the platform led by a bigger woman towing a little girl by the hand. The twins didn't communicate in any way, just moved towards the group.

"Alright then, Percy, you first." the woman said, gesturing to the tallest boy. The twins tried to see what he did, a crowd surged past and when they cleared, the boy was gone.

"You next, Fred." The woman turned to the next two – they were clearly twins.

"I'm not Fred, he is!" The boy on the left cried.

"Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother." the boy on the right shook his head sadly.

"I'm sorry George... Go on, then." The woman gestured for him to go on.

The boy started forward, then turned back, saying, "Only joking. I am Fred."

The boy walked forward and simply disappeared, his twin just a step behind him. The Potters exchanged a look and both started forward. Lory tapped the woman's elbow, and then stepped back to stand next to Harry.

"Yes, dears?" The woman half turned. The remaining boy and girl with her looked at the Potters curiously.

"Um. D'you suppose you could tell us how..." Harry trailed off.

"How to get to the platform?" The woman asked kindly. "Of course. It's Ron's first time too. Just go through that barrier – I know it's a bit frightening. Take it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

"You first." Lory whispered, looking at the stone barrier with trepidation.

Harry gulped and ran at the barrier before platforms nine and ten. Lory squeezed her eyes shut just before he hit the stone wall. She didn't hear a crash, and after a moment, the redheaded woman rested her hand on Lory's shoulder.

"Ron's gone through after your brother, dear. You come with me and Ginny." she said.

Lory nodded and began to pick up speed. Just when it looked like she'd crash painfully into the wall, she felt a strange 'woosh' sensation. She slowed herself down and looked around. She was standing on a train platform, but it wasn't the same as the one she'd just left. There was a scarlet train waiting there.

"Harry?" She called. She spotted him about ten feet away, looking at the train.

She went and joined him. Neither said a word. They just stared at the great scarlet engine. After a few minutes, Harry said he was going to try to get his trunk onto the train. Lory nodded and watched as he struggled to haul his trunk into the compartment. He'd taken Hedwig in first, but the trunk was really quite a bit heavier. Lory had offered to help, but he had informed her she had less muscle mass than he did and so would be less helpful.

"D'you want a hand?"

Lory turned. It was one of the red-headed twins from earlier. He was smiling charmingly at her, and she found herself smiling back.

"A hand would be lovely, thanks." She said. "I'm Lory."

"Ah. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm George." He looked at her trunk. "Think you can give me a hand with the trunk?"

"Sure, I could. But your name isn't George." Lory quirked her head to the side. "Your mother helped me get through the barrier earlier – you're Fred, because you're wearing the green sweater. George was wearing blue. Unless you've traded shirts, in which case I apologize for my accusation."

"I'm gobsmacked." Fred grinned. "No one's been able to tell us apart before."

"It's a twin thing." Lory said. "Now, let's get a move on."

The two of them managed to get the trunk up the short flight of stairs up to the compartment, where they ran into Fred's twin, George, and Harry. Fred and George moved the younger twins' trunks up into the luggage racks. Lory went back onto the platform to fetch Apollo and the small knapsack she'd brought that contained a couple of muggle books (Jane Eyre and a book of Shakespeare's great tragedies) and her cheap recorder as well as Apollo's cat treats. Fred joined her on the platform, because he was 'a great admirer of cats'. Lory thought he was just fascinated that she could tell him apart from his brother.

"Fred!" George came stumbling off the train. "Blimey, you'll never believe who that boy turned out to be!"

"Lory's brother?" Fred offered lamely.

"Harry Potter!" George exclaimed.

"I suppose that's my cue to get aboard." Lory said awkwardly.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Lory." Fred smiled, although he too looked a little starstruck at having met Harry Potter. "We'll try to keep an eye out for you this year."

"Thanks." Lory smiled and rejoined Harry aboard the train.

(star)(star)(star)

"I think I'd about die if I were a Hufflepuff." Ron Weasley, Fred and George's younger brother was saying. The redhead had come to sit with the Potters a short ways into the trip, saying everywhere else was full.

"Oh?" Lory asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Yeah. I mean, my whole family's been in Gryffindor, but my older brothers say that Hufflepuff is full of duffers." Ron shrugged, eating another cauldron cake that Harry had bought.

"They can't be that bad." Harry protested.

"Well, obviously it'd be worse to be Slytherin. There's not a witch or wizard who went bad that wasn't in Slytherin." Ron looked up from his food long enough to shudder.

On the whole, Lory wasn't very impressed with Ron Weasley. He seemed daft. Lory didn't have much patience for stupid people. She knew she would likely have to work on that, but for now she didn't see the point.

"Excuse me." Lory stood and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, mildly afraid that she was leaving him alone in a strange place.

"To the loo." Lory replied, looking back over her shoulder. "I'll be back."

Harry nodded. She entered the hall and shut the door behind her. Just outside was Fred. He looked like he'd been wandering the train, knocking on doors at random. When he spotted her, he smiled and approached her.

"I promised Mum I'd check in on Ronnie. Haven't been able to find him yet, though." He explained.

"He's in there." Lory gestured behind her. "Telling me and Harry about how Hufflepuffs are loads of duffers and he'd sooner die than be a Hufflepuff."

"Are you worried about the sorting?" Fred asked, tugging her off to the side as a gaggle of fifth year girls walked past on their way to change into their uniforms.

"A bit." Lory admitted. "Ron says you told him that we'd have to fight a troll."

"That bit was exaggerated." Fred admitted with a smile. "He's daft, and George and I felt like pulling his leg a bit. Really all you do is sit on a stool and have a mouldy old hat tell you which house you most belong in."

"A hat?" Lory asked, looking up at him skeptically.

"Welcome to the world of magic, love." Fred laughed. "I should check in on him though, just so I can tell mum I did. And Lory, I meant what I said earlier. I'll keep an eye out for you. You'll need it, if you're hanging round my little brother."

Lory smiled softly. She'd needed the morale boost. She stayed outside for a few moments longer as Fred stuck his head in to talk to Ron. When he came back out and spotted her still standing there, he clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Just remember, Lory: There is nothing wrong with being sorted into Hufflepuff. We may joke about them all being daft duffers, but the truth is, they're the most loyal creatures in the school." He murmured.

"Thanks, Fred." Lory smiled, and began to cross the hall back to her compartment.

"Lory?" Fred called. She turned, and he said, "Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders."

With that befuddling comment, Fred strolled back up the train, whistling an odd tune. Lory laughed aloud and rejoined Ron and Harry.

(star)(star)(star)

A/N: I think I'll leave it here. I'll post the sorting and such next week. I promise. I make an Unbreakable Vow (but not really, because that implies that I'm actually a witch).


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hm. Well, since I didn't actually make an Unbreakable Vow, my blood did not boil in my veins, and I am not dead – but I am sorry I didn't get around to updating sooner than now.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story except Lory. Also, there's another reference to A Very Potter Musical in this chapter.

Chapter Five

Hello, Hogwarts

By the time the train rolled into the station just after dark, Lory and Harry had met several more of their classmates: a chubby boy had come into the compartment just after Lory had returned and asked if they'd seen his toad. The boy introduced himself as Neville Longbottom, and asked that they keep a look-out for Trevor (the toad). Shortly thereafter, a girl with bushy brown hair and slightly bucked teeth appeared in the doorway. She, too, was looking for Trevor the toad.

"Oh, you're about to do magic?" The girl had said.

"Er," Ron had replied, blinking at the girl. In one hand was a tired-looking brown rat that had greying fur, and in the other was his wand.

"Well, go on. I've read all the spell books, and I tried a few basic spells. They've all worked for me." The girl sat herself on the seat next to Ron, watching him intently.

"Right. Here goes." Ron took a deep breath and turned his attention to the rat. "Sunshine, daisies, buttermellow – turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. Ron had explained that Fred and George had given him the spell. Lory had rolled her eyes. She didn't know how Ron, who'd lived with the twins all his life, had believed them, while she, who'd only just met the elder boys, knew it was a load of codswallop instantly. The bushy haired girl had rolled her eyes a bit and turned her attention to the twins.

"Holy cricket!" The girl exclaimed after surveying them. "You're Harry Potter!"

"Er," Harry had thrown a glance at Lory. "Yeah. I am."

"I read about you in 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'!" Hermione said in awe.

"Hello, how do you do?" Lory interjected, annoyed at being overlooked yet again. "I'm Lorelai Potter. Absolutely smashing to make your acquaintance."

"I'm so sorry!" The girl exclaimed. "I've completely forgotten my manners. I'm Hermione Granger."

Lory offered a strained smile and shook the other girl's extended hand. She knew she should be friendlier with all of these people who were amazed at meeting Harry, but she was sick of being a constant oversight.

"I'd best be off – Neville probably hasn't found Trevor yet." Hermione offered the group a smile and then paused at the door to the compartment. She turned to Ron and said, "You've got a bit of dirt on your nose, did you know?"

As Ron had rubbed furiously at his nose, Hermione left. A short time after that, the foul blond boy from the robe shop appeared. He had two hulking cronies behind him. They stayed for a very short amount of time – the boy, whose name was Draco Malfoy, insulted Ron's family, ignored Lory and Harry, and then left after one of his cronies was bitten by Ron's rat.

Then, finally, they came to a shuddering stop. Unsure of what to do, the three of them left their luggage and pets in the compartment, and joined the throng of people filing out onto the platform. After glancing around, slightly disoriented, Lory spotted a very large form just a bit to her left.

"First years, over here!"

"Hagrid!" Lory cried happily, dragging her brother over to the giant man. "I didn't expect to see you here!" 

"Well, Lorelai, it's part of my job to make sure you first years make it up to the castle alright." Hagrid said, smiling.

"How do we get up there?" Harry asked, looking up at the glowing windows of the castle in awe.

"By boat." Hagrid grinned. "Right, this is everyone, is it? Four to a boat."

For this last, Hagrid raised his voice. The small group of first-years crowded around the boats at the shore of a great lake, clamoring carefully in. Neville Longbottom joined Harry, Ron, and Lory in one of the boats. It didn't take very long to reach the other side of the lake. Hagrid watched as the group of eleven-year-olds got out of the boats and stood together, waiting for Hagrid to tell them what to do.

"Right. Come along, now." Hagrid said, motioning with one large hand for them to follow him. "And have any of you lost a toad?"

"Trevor!" Neville cried, running to get the amphibian.

"Right." Hagrid said again, turning and starting up off the path toward the castle.

The first-years scurried after him. Lory's mouth was agape. She'd never seen a building so big, or beautiful. It had an eerie, haunting quality to it that she absolutely loved. A short way away, she heard Draco Malfoy complaining that the 'stupid castle' would probably be dreary and drafty and damp. Personally, Lory was impressed that he knew so many words that essentially meant the same thing.

"He should shove it." Harry murmured to Lory, casting a dark look at Malfoy.

Lory smiled at her brother and shook her head. She had a feeling Harry and Malfoy wouldn't be getting on spiffingly any time soon. On the other hand, it wasn't that she herself felt any particular urge to befriend the blond brat. Lory nearly collided with Ron's back as the group came to a halt. She'd not been paying much attention, focusing instead on gazing around at her surroundings.

"Right. Wait here, you lot, and Professor McGonagall will be out to collect you."

Hagrid lumbered into the castle. Lory and Harry watched him go, and a sense of nervous excitement filled them. Lory squeezed her brother's arm, and gave him a trembling smile. He returned the smile. Then, Malfoy strode up to them.

"So. You're Harry Potter." The blond boy looked Harry up and down, as though he was seeing him for the first time. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I can introduce you to everyone who matters here."

"I can find my own friends, thanks." Harry said frostily. "And we've met, actually."

"Your lackies are over there, Malfoy. Perhaps you should rejoin them?" Lory asked in an almost polite tone.

"Remember what I said, Potter." Malfoy sneered. "You'll regret this someday."

"Doubt it." The twins muttered in unison.

They were saved from Malfoy's response by the appearance of a stately looking woman with greying brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. She had slim glasses, and an expression that clearly said she would not tolerate troublemakers.

"Hello, students. I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Follow me, please."

The woman had a crisp voice with a Scottish accent. The first-years followed her, dumb with awe and nerves. She led them into the castle, through a large entrance hall, and into a small chamber to one side.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall once all the students had squeezed into the room. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair. Lory felt she looked rather presentable, but tugged at her skirt all the same. "I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

There was absolute silence in the room for several long seconds until, startlingly, about twenty figures glided _through the wall_. Pearly white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and seeming not to notice the first-years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked to be a fat little monk was saying, "Forgive and forget, I say, we should give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name, you know, and he's not even really a ghost. I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had finally noticed the first years. Nobody answered, just stared solemnly up at him.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar jovially. "About to be sorted, I expect?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"I hope to see you in Hufflepuff. My old house, you know..." said the Friar.

"Move along." said a sharp voice. "The sorting ceremony is about to begin."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts filed out of the room through the opposite wall.

"Now then, form a line and follow me." Professor McGonagall said, turning her attention back to the students.

They did as they were told. Lory found a place in front of Harry and behind a sandy-haired boy, and they walked out of the chamber, across the hall, and through a pair of great double doors into the Great Hall. Lory and Harry looked around, wide-eyed. While Lory had read Hogwarts: A History, she had never imagined such a magnificent place. Her brother, however, was completely unprepared. He was simply in awe of the thousands and thousands of floating candles which lit the place. The group walked between two of the four long tables at which the rest of the students sat. Professor McGonagall led them up to the table at the top of the Hall where the teachers sat. She had the young students face the rest of the hall. Lory was acutely aware of the hundreds of people looking at her. Though, to be fair she was sure that only one face was looking intently and directly at her: Fred Weasley had caught her eye and given her a little thumbs up. She noticed Harry had tilted his head back to look at the ceiling and followed suite. The space above them looked like the night sky. They both heard Hermione, on the other side of the sandy-haired boy whisper, "It's bewitched to look like that -"

"I know." Lory murmured back, interrupting the girl. "I read it in Hogwarts: A History."

Hermione looked startled and slightly pleased that someone else had read more than the required books. Both twins quickly looked down as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years, and put a frayed, dirty old wizard's hat on top of that. It was something Aunt Petunia never would've let in the house.

Harry looked between Lory and Ron nervously, hoping one of them would have some idea as to what they were meant to do with the hat. Pull a rabbit out of it, perhaps? Then he noticed that everyone in the hall was staring at the hat, so he stared at it too. For a moment there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched, a rip near the brim opened like a mouth, and – incredibly – the hat began to sing:

_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

You might belong in _Gryffindor__,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set __Gryffindor__s apart;  
You might belong in __Hufflepuff__,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in __Slytherin__  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then went quite still.

"So we've just got to try on a hat?" Ron whispered furiously to the twins. "I'm going to kill Fred, he said we'd have to wrestle a troll."

Lory giggled while Harry looked distinctly relieved. Though neither of the twins liked the idea of trying the hat on in front of everyone, it was much better than using spells they'd never tried before. Professor McGonagall stepped forward and unrolled a bit of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will step forward and sit on this stool to be sorted." She instructed. "Abbott, Hannah."

The blonde girl was quivering as she approached the stool and slipped the hat onto her head. After a moment, it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to go and sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry noticed the ghost of the Fat Friar waving jovially at her. After the applause died down, Professor McGonagall continued reading names, and 'Bones, Susan' joined Hannah at the Hufflepuff table. The next student, a boy named 'Boot, Terry' became the first Ravenclaw of the evening.

After Lavender Brown was sorted into Gryffindor, the table on the far left exploded into cheers. Lory spotted Fred and George cat-calling as the girl sat at the end of the table. 'Bulstrode, Millicent' became a Slytherin just moments later. Harry's head turned to watch her take her seat at the Slytherin table on the far right, and wondered to himself if it was just because he'd heard so many negative things about that House, but didn't they all seem rather unpleasant?

"What if the Hat doesn't put me in any House?" Harry murmured softly to Lory, his eyes anxious.

Lory brushed him off, not truly paying attention to the Sorting or her brother. Then 'Granger, Hermione' was called, and she watched as the bushy-haired girl became a Gryffindor. Ron, on Harry's other side, groaned. Lory glared at him. He clearly didn't like the other girl, just because she was a bit of a know-it-all. Lory conveniently forgot that she herself hadn't been impressed with Hermione's first impression.

Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad became a Gryffindor as well, and in his haste to join the table, forgot to remove the Hat. He blushed beet red as he hurried back to give it to 'McDougal, Morag' and then nearly ran to sit down next to Hermione. Draco Malfoy was granted his wish almost immediately when his turn came: the Hat had barely touched his head when it shouted, "Slytherin!"

Malfoy went and joined the large cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Finally, after about five more students, Professor McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry!"

Whispers broke out around the room, and people craned their necks to get a glance at Harry. Lory rolled her eyes. She hoped that all this attention wouldn't go to her brother's head. She saw him murmuring, 'not Slytherin' over and over as the Hat slid onto his head. He needn't have worried, as the Hat shouted, "Gryffindor" after a long moment. Harry got the loudest cheer yet, and Lory tried really very hard not to be jealous of him. She noticed Ron's elder brother Percy, the prefect shake Harry's hand vigorously, and Fred and George yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Lory scowled even as Professor McGonagall called her name. More whispers broke out around the Hall.

"There's another Potter?" someone asked.

"Must be a coincidence." another determined.

Lory sat down and slipped the Hat onto her head. To her surprise, a small voice sounded in her head and murmured, "Ah. Another Potter. You have a great desire to shine, girl. Slytherin would suit you well. Ah. But there, you aren't the type to do whatever it takes to get what you want. Clever, but not devoted to your studies in the way of a true Ravenclaw. You're loyal, fiercely so. Hufflepuff may work. But I see you won't be separated from your brother. I suppose that means Gryffindor!"

Lory was acutely aware that the last word had been shouted to the Hall. As she stood and set the Hat back onto the stool, she stuck her tongue out at at. She strode over to the Gryffindor table, where Fred and George had begun to cat-call and clap loudly, prompting the rest of the table to do so as well. Percy didn't stand to shake Lory's hand as he had Harry's, but she didn't find that his welcome mattered to her as much as the Weasley twins' had.

"Sit here, Lory." Fred said, pointing to the bench beside him where George was already seated. "Budge up, Georgie."

Lory blushed and did so, trying not to take up too much more space than absolutely necessary. Professor McGonagall was already continuing with the sorting. Harry was seated across from her and he gave her a relieved smile. She grinned back at him, all annoyance gone and excitement fluttering in its place. The ghost with the ruff from earlier glided over and sat himself down next to Harry, patting his arm in what Lory believed was meant to be an encouraging fashion. Harry shuddered as though he'd just been struck by ice water. Lory twisted to look toward the front of the room. Hagrid, at one end of the staff table, gave the twins a thumbs-up. They beamed back. At the center of the table, in a large gold chair, was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster. Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher, was there too.

Suddenly, it was Ron's turn. He was sorted quickly: Gryffindor. He hurried over and sank into a seat next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron." Percy said pompously, nodding his approval from the ghost's other side.

"To our new students: Welcome to Hogwarts. To our returning friends: Welcome back. Now, I realize that you all must be quite hungry, so I shall just say a few words," Professor Dumbledore said, standing with a smile. "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat again, and the students all clapped and cheered. Lory glanced over at her brother, and saw that he was on the verge of laughter. She, too, didn't know whether or not to laugh. She settled for a soft giggle as the golden plates all along the table filled with food.

"Is he mad?" Harry asked Percy.

"Professor Dumbledore is a genius!" Percy replied, indignantly.

"He's a nutter." Fred said, nodding sagely.

"Completely mental." George agreed.

"He's brilliant." They said together.

Lory laughed, and began to fill her plate. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she'd seen all the food. After the first delicious bite of mashed potatoes, she noticed that both the Weasley twins were staring at their younger brother in disgust. She glanced at Ron as well. He was shoving forkful after forkful of food into his mouth, not bothering to wait until he'd chewed and swallowed before putting in more.

"Ew." She wrinkled her nose, then turned to Fred.

"Did the Hat talk to either of you before it put you in your House?" she asked.

"Sort of." Fred shrugged.

"It just said, 'Another Weasley, Merlin help us all' to me and put me in Gryffindor." George said cheerfully. "I think it gets bored, only being used once a year."

"Just be glad you only got the Sorting Hat." Fred looked down at Lory. "Back in our day, they also had the Scarf of Sexual Preference. Which they stopped using -"

"Because one ickle firsty in our year found out he was bent and jumped off the astronomy tower." George finished, the same evil little glint in his eye as had crept into Fred's.

"Scarf of... what?" Harry squeaked.

"Ignore them." Lory said, laughing. "They're just trying to be outrageous, I think."

"Fred." George had a horror-struck look on his face.

"I know, Georgie. She's immune to us." Fred had an identical expression.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were talking to the ghost with the ruff – who, it turned out was named Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, who most just called Nearly Headless Nick due to his botched beheading. Ron managed to offend the ghost and spray half-chewed food on Harry all at once. Everyone went back to eating and making small talk. Then, after pudding, Dumbledore stood again.

"Just a few more words, now that we're all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden, and a few of the older students should remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who looked down modestly. "I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be done in the halls between classes. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone who wishes to play for their House team should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did. "He's not serious, is he?"

Percy nodded, "Must be. He usually gives us a reason, though. I mean, the Forest is full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. But you'd think he would've at least told the prefects."

"Now, let's sing the school song, and take our leave." Dumbledore smiled. The other teachers' smiles became rather pained at this. "Everyone pick your favourite tune, and off we go."

Dumbledore flicked his wand and a ribbon fluttered out of it, and twisted itself into words.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald,  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling,  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."

Everyone finished at different times. In the end, only Fred and George were singing to a slow funeral march. Dumbledore merrily conducted them with his wand for the last few lines, and when they were done, he was one of the ones who clapped loudest. Lory whistled playfully. Fred and George winked at her simultaneously.

"Ah, music." the headmaster said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! Now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and onto the marble staircase. Fred and George loped along behind Lory, Harry, and Ron, listening to and mocking their elder brother as he told the first-years short-cuts to get to the common room. In truth, Lory and Harry weren't paying much attention. Both were very tired and very full and very much ready to go to bed. Neither noticed that Percy led them through two secret doors, or that the subjects of all the paintings were whispering to one another and flitting in and out of their frames. Finally they came to stop in front of a painting of a fat lady wearing a pink silk dress.

"Password?" The woman asked.

"Caput draconis." Percy said pompously.

The Fat Lady swung open, revealing a circular passage in the wall. Everyone scrambled through, with Neville needing a leg up. When Lory got to the opening, Fred and George stood on either side of it, bowing her in with a flourish. Percy heaved an exaggerated sigh. The Gryffindor common room was a round room filled with squashy armchairs with a fire crackling in the fireplace. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory, and the boys through another to theirs.

Lory hugged her brother, wished the Weasley twins and Ron goodnight, and shuffled off to the girls dorms. At the top of the spiral staircase – by now it was obvious they were in one of the towers – and she found a door labeled 'first year' and Lory entered it. Hermione Granger was there, opening her trunk, as were two other girls. Lory pulled her pajamas from her trunk and struggled into them before collapsing on her bed, where her cat was already sleeping.

"Goodnight, Apollo." Lory whispered. She heard the other two girls say goodnight to one another – apparently, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had already become fast friends. Lory glanced over at Hermione Granger, who looked very small sitting on her bed. She thought the other girl looked lonely, and raised her voice a bit, calling, "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Oh. Goodnight, Lorelai." Hermione smiled at her tremulously and crawled under her blankets.

Soon the dormitories was filled with the sounds of even breathing and soft snores. Lory tossed and turned fitfully, upsetting Apollo, who pawed her face in annoyance. She was just glad he hadn't decided to extend his claws. Finally, she gave up. Sleep simply eluded her. She'd thought for sure that all the excitement of the day would've exhausted her. She sighed, then sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati remained asleep. Apollo mewed and cracked one yellow-gold eye at her.

"Well, darling, let's go and warm ourselves, shall we?" Lory whispered, picking the kitten up gently.

She padded out of the room, closing the door softly behind her, and made her way down to the common room. It was empty. Lory sighed softly. She placed Apollo on the sofa and moved toward a bookshelf she'd noticed in the far corner as she'd re-entered the room. A small placard above the shelf read, "The Gryffindor Literary Trading Post: Read, Return, Repeat". Lory smiled and ran her finger along the spines of the books, then selected one at random. After settling back on the couch, she read the cover and groaned. She had chosen completely the wrong book. Rather than getting up and selecting another, however, she simply opened the novel to chapter one. Apollo climbed into her lap happily, his previous ire at being awakened forgotten.

"What are you reading?"

Lory looked up with a start. There, sitting in an armchair a short way from Lory was Fred Weasley. She smiled softly and held up the cover for him to see: The BFG by Roald Dahl.

"What's a BFG?" Fred inquired, looking at the cover curiously.

"The Big, Friendly Giant." Lory replied, marking her place and setting the book down. "It's not something I'd normally read..."

"Why not?" Fred reached over and picked up the book, examining it thoughtfully. "It looks like a wonderful story. It's got adventure, fun, make-believe... a great fairy story."

"I don't believe in fairy tales." Lory shrugged.

"How can you not believe in fairy tales?" Fred looked aghast.

"Uncle Vernon doesn't approve of imagination." Lory made a face. "I've got that in spades. But I have a hard time believing in happy endings, growing up with the Dursleys."

"That's fair." Fred nodded slowly. "But I've a proposition for you: if, at the end of your fifth year here you still don't believe in fairy tales, I'll write you one so cheesy and stereotypical that you'll have to believe it."

"And if I do?" Lory arched an eyebrow, and watched the light from the dying flames flicker over the older boy's face.

"Well, I'll back you a cake and you'll win either way." Fred set her book down beside her again and grinned. "You should try to get some sleep, Lore. You'll need it."

With that, he retreated back up the steps to the boys' dormitories, leaving Lory alone with her thoughts, a cat, and a children's book.

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A/N: I am so sorry, you guys. I meant to post this approximately ages ago. I had it all ready to go... and then I didn't have internet for about three weeks because something went screwy on my laptop. :(

I tacked on this last part, with Fred and Lory in the common room, even though I'd planned for that to be in the next chapter, just because you've been so patient with me.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: OKAY. So I'm really hoping I finish this all in one shot and don't edit it five times like I usually do. Because I am MOVING in three days, and I kinda need to pack up my notebook! So, because I love all of you who take the time out to actually read and review this story, anyone who reviews this chapter, or adds me to story/author alert or favourite story/author before I get around to posting the next one will get a special scene between Lory and Fred at the Yule Ball (which I started to write because it was stuck in my head). /end rant.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. In fact, I blatantly copied a lot of this from the book – the story line will start to get a bit more original after this, I promise

**Chapter Six**

**Snape**

Lory's eyes snapped open at an absurdly early hour the next morning. She rolled from her side to her back and pushed herself up onto her elbows. Looking around, she saw that she was the only one of her dorm-mates to fall asleep without pulling the curtains closed on her four-poster bed. Both Lavender and Parvati still had theirs drawn, but Hermione was making her bed crisply. The girl's hair was even bushier first thing in the morning, and Lory grimaced at the thought of what her own hair must look like. She wasn't by any means a vain person, but she was still a girl and she preferred to at least appear presentable around all these strangers.

"Morning, Hermione." Lory yawned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Oh! Six-thirty, nearly." Hermione replied, turning to look at Lory. "I heard you get up last night."

"Couldn't sleep." Lory shrugged and began to neaten her bed as best she could without waking Apollo. "I found a bookshelf with Muggle literature downstairs."

"Really?" Hermione's brown eyes lit up with excitement. "I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find any of that here."

"Me too. I brought my own shabby collection with me." Lory gave her a smile. "D'you mind if I use the shower first? I'll be quick."

"Go for it. I prefer to shower before bed." Hermione shrugged.

Lory gathered her toiletries and made for the bathroom. She showered as she had at the Dursleys: quickly and efficiently. She did pause and take a moment to enjoy the hot water before turning it off. Dressing in her uniform and pulling a brush through her hair, she rejoined Hermione in the main area of the dormitory.

"Shall we head down to breakfast, then?" Hermione asked softly, careful not to wake Parvati or Lavender.

"Yeah." Lory nodded, grabbing a handful of hair elastics from her night table. "Let's go see if Harry's ready."

"Do you suppose that boorish Ronald boy will be with him?" Hermione led them out of the dormitory and down the stairs to the common room as Lory pulled her hair up into a ponytail on top of her head, securing it with one of the hair elastics and slipping the others onto her wrist.

"Probably." Lory sighed. "His brothers seem much more polite, though. Maybe it was just nerves..."

Lory trailed off, hoping that nerves were all that had made the boy act like a fool. She supposed that since he and Harry had gotten on so well, she'd be seeing a lot of him.

"Yes, I noticed that you were friendly with the twins at the feast." Hermione smiled tentatively, revealing her slightly-large front teeth. "They're rather funny."

"I'd noticed that as well." Lory laughed.

They waited in the common room – largely at Lory's insistence, as Hermione was anxious to find her way back down to the Great Hall – until a messy-haired Harry came down from the boys' dormitories with Ron and Neville trailing after him. They exchanged groggy pleasantries and set off for the Great Hall for breakfast. The halls were rather difficult to navigate, the first-years found. There were one hundred and forty-two staircases in the castle, and they all seemed to have a mind of their own. The doors weren't always reliable, either – some wouldn't open unless asked politely, while others had to be tickled in just the right place. Some doors weren't even doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. To top it all off, the entire student body seemed to be obsessed with getting a good look at Harry.

After the first day of trying to get smoothly to class, Lory told her twin that she loved him, truly she did, but she was going to be going down to breakfast with Hermione every day, whether he was ready to go or not. Ron had gotten them lost a few too many times that morning. Harry admitted that was true, but stood by his new friend. Lory sighed. She knew that she really couldn't fault Ron for getting them lost – she herself didn't know with absolute certainty the correct route to every single class or even to the Great Hall yet. She'd really just drawn the line at going to classes with the boys after they'd taken a wrong turn somewhere and tried to force their way into the out-of-bounds third floor corridor. The old caretaker, Argus Filch couldn't believe they were lost, and was threatening to lock the lot of them in the dungeons for 'blatant disregard for school rules' when Professor Quirrell happened by and rescued them. The children thanked their teacher profusely and scurried off.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs Norris, a thin, dust-coloured thing with huge, lamp-like eyes exactly like her master's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who would appear within seconds. He knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except maybe the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as one of the ghosts. No one liked Filch, and it soon became Lory's dearest ambition to give Mrs Norris a good kick. She was not alone in this wish.

Once they'd managed to finally find the classrooms, there were the lessons themselves to accomplish. Harry soon found that there was a lot more to magic than simply waving your wand about and saying a few funny words. Lory reminded him that she'd tried to tell him as much after reading through 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1'. Her brother didn't seem to appreciate this much.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes each Wednesday at midnight and learn the names and movements of all the constellations. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with a plump little witch with flyaway gray hair covered by a pointed hat called Professor Sprout. She taught them how to care for strange plants and fungi and told them what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which had potential to be interesting if only because it was the only lesson taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been really very old when he'd fallen asleep before the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, only to leave his body behind. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He began the class by taken attendance, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited little squeak and toppled out of sight. It took him a moment to right himself and regain composure before he continued on with roll call like the incident had never happened.

Professor McGonagall was again different. The Potters had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking to the moment they had sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts." She said. "Anyone messing about in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Lory didn't know why, but she thought that perhaps the Potters had switched roles with the stern-looking professor. When she took attendance she went briskly through Harry's name as she'd done with every student before him, but with Lory, the girl could've sworn the woman's voice softened just a bit. It made her feel a bit better about being shunted to the side so much more since she'd come here.

McGonagall started her lesson by turning her desk into a pig and back again. Everyone was very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but it soon became evident that no one would be turning furniture into animals any time soon. They took a lot of very complicated notes before each student was given a match and was instructed to turn it into a needle. It was much more difficult than Harry could have imagined it to be, and Lory tuned his muttering out as she concentrated on her match. By the end of the class, she'd made it go pointy, but it was still very clearly a match. Only Hermione successfully turned her match into a needle. Hermione received one of Professor McGonagall's rare smiles. Lorelai received a brief, almost motherly squeeze of the shoulder for her efforts. The girl began to wonder if McGonagall had known her before the night her parents died.

The class that all the Gryffindor first-years had been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was terrified would come back to get him someday. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure how true that story was. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung about the turban. The Weasley twins insisted it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry and Lory were very relieved that they weren't miles behind everyone else. A lot of their classmates had come from Muggle families and hadn't had any idea that they had magic before they got their letters. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They'd finally managed to find their way to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once, a feat about which they crowed when they slid into seats across from Lory, who'd begun to sit with Fred and George at breakfasts. Hermione got up too early for her liking, and then whisked herself off to the library.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked as he and Ron helped themselves to porridge and poured sugar on top of it.

"Double potions with the Slytherins." Ron answered. "Snape's head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"It's true." George assured his younger brother darkly.

"Wish McGonagall favoured us." Harry muttered.

Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Lory had pointed out that Professor McGonagall was simply an incredibly fair woman, and it wouldn't be fair if she didn't give everyone the same amount of work. Her brother had scowled at her.

Just then, the post arrived. Lory blinked and moved her plate to the side. The twins had gotten used to the post's arrival by now, but it had given them a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages onto their laps. Lory wasn't expecting any letters, she'd just noticed that occasionally stray feathers found their way onto plates. Fred and George glanced up and then excused themselves, saying they needed to go and get their book-bags before class. Lory waved as they trotted off.

So far, Hedwig hadn't brought either of the twins anything, although she occasionally flew in to nibble Harry's ear affectionately or accept a bit of toast from Lory before flying off to sleep in the owlery with the school owls. This morning, however, she dropped a note onto Harry's plate, settling herself on the table between the marmalade and the sugar bowl. Harry glanced over at Lory and then tore it open.

_Dear Harry and Lory_, it read in a very untidy scrawl, _I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid._

"It's from Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, as Lory craned her head to read over his shoulder. He borrowed a quill from Ron and scribbled, _Yes, please, see you later._

He attached the note back onto Hedwig's leg, sending her off to Hagrid. It turned out that it was lucky the twins had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to Harry so far. He'd shared with Lory over breakfast on their first morning at Hogwarts that he'd noticed Snape at the staff table at the start of term banquet, and it seemed like the professor hadn't liked him much. By the end of the lesson, however, it became very obvious that Professor Snape didn't dislike Harry – he _hated_ him. He seemed determined not to look at Lory at all, too, which she found perplexing.

Potions lessons took place in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Lory shuddered, but was secretly relieved that there were no human body parts in those jars – George had told her that Snape collected fingers that students accidentally sliced off, while Fred insisted that it wasn't just fingers, it was the whole hand. Lory hadn't truly believed them, but a part of her was half expecting to see a jar full of thumbs.

Snape, like Flitwick, started class by taking the register, ad like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," He said softly, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "Harry Potter. Our new celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape continued calling the names, his eyes meeting Lory's when he called her name. They widened and he hastily looked back down and finished. When he looked back up at the class, Lory noted that his eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they lacked all of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty, and made her think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potions-making." He began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the minds, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving she wasn't a dunderhead. Lory just sighed. She'd been actually looking forward to this class above all others – she'd read 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, and Potion-Making for Beginners, and she'd quite liked chemistry in Muggle school. She was disappointed that her teacher seemed to have no interest in actually teaching anyone who wasn't a Slytherin.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, turning and fixing a look on Harry. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry looked stumped, and glanced over at Ron. He also looked stumped. Hermione's hand had shot into the air. Lory just looked steadily at the teacher, wishing she were brave or stupid enough to answer for her brother.

"I don't know, sir," Harry said softly.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything." Snape's lips curled into a sneer, and he ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again, Potter. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea of what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Lory turned and glared at them – she was willing to bet her cat that they hadn't the slightest clue what a bezoar was, either!

"I don't know, sir." Harry repeated.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had looked through his books, but it was Lory who had the real interest in the stuff. Besides, did Snape really expect him to have memorized the material? Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this Hermione stood up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. Harry began to open his mouth to answer when Lory's voice interrupted him: "There is none, Professor. Wolfsbane and monkshood are the same plant. It's also called aconite."

Snape turned and met Lory's gaze once again. He nearly had to look away at the intense annoyance, bordering on fury he found there.

"And also, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful, it's known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat that will save you from most poisons." Lory continued, gathering steam as she went on.

"Miss Potter, I did not ask you." Snape said coldly.

"Actually, Professor, you didn't say which Potter you wanted to answer – excuse me if I got confused." Lory replied, struggling to keep a polite tone and failing. "We are twins, you know. You read my name earlier, so there's no way you didn't know there were two Potters in your class."

"Lory!" Harry hissed, stomping on her foot under the table. That brought her back to her senses, and she shut her mouth.

"Five points from Gryffindor, for Miss Potter's insolence." Snape said, tight lipped. "Well, why didn't you write any of that down?"

Things did not improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them into pairs and set them to mixing a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like, and Lory, whom he was now avoiding. Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was sweeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched with the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You – Mr Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point from Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty. And Lory's already gotten him wound up."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. Lory had a scowl plastered onto her face. Between the two of them, six points had been lost for Gryffindor in their very first week – why did Snape hate them so much?

"You two go on down to Hagrid's. I don't much feel like tea anymore." Lory told the boys as they came up into the Entrance Hall.

"Are you sure, Lory?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, Hagrid might make you feel better." Harry added.

"I'm just going to go up to the common room and start on that Transfiguration homework we've got. I'll see you two at dinner." Lory tried to smile, but instead just looked pained.

The boys waved and started out the main door of the castle. Lory trudged up the stairs towards the seventh floor and the Gryffindor common room. She was still mulling over why Snape hated her and Harry when she got to her destination. She sighed, shook her head, and settled herself in at one of the tables next to the bookcase. Sitting cross-legged in her chair, she opened 'Standard Book of Spells, Grade One' to the Transfiguration section and stared at it without really seeing. She was sure she'd read the same sentence twenty times, when the chairs next to and across from hers were pulled out and two people plunked down into them.

"Look at our little girl, all serious and hard at work." Fred said, his voice full of mock sorrow.

"Where on earth did we go wrong, Fred?" George put a hand to his heart, taking the same tone as his brother.

"Ha, ha. Very funny." Lory rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to work. I've got to earn some house points back."

"You've lost some already?" George, who was across from her, looked impressed. "Very well done. Fred and I managed to behave ourselves for the better part of our first month."

"What'd you do?" Fred asked curiously. "All you had this morning was Potions, and from what we heard, only Neville managed to destroy a cauldron."

"I lost my temper." Lory admitted ruefully. "Snape was just asking Harry all these unfair questions that he couldn't have possibly known the answers to, and saying 'Potter, what is this? Potter, where would I find that?' and I answered for him in the end."

Fred and George began laughing, and Lory crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at them.

"It's not funny. I lost five points for talking out of turn." Lory said flatly.

"Five points? That's nothing." Fred shrugged easily.

"We've lost ten each already." George added cheerfully. "Our little sister wanted us to send her a Hogwarts toilet seat – and we did! Our mum will probably send us a Howler in the morning."

"What's a Howler?" Lory asked, temporarily forgetting her own woes.

"Oh, it's a letter that records the sender, and once you get it, it shouts at you. It's nearly as good as having the real thing." George explained.

"It explodes if you don't open it right away, so there's no way you can avoid hearing it." Fred added. "We've gotten no less than seven in the past two years."

"For what?" Lory tilted her head to the side, her homework now completely forgotten.

"Oh, various things." George glanced at Fred. "Which ones got us Howlers, Freddie?"

"The exploding pudding." Fred replied.

"The flaming dungbomb incident." George continued.

"Setting fly paper down so Mrs Norris got stuck to them."

"Twice! We did that twice!"

"I can't recall why we got the other three..." Fred looked thoughtful, before a grin found its way back onto his face. "Anyhow, you have a long way to go before you've the reputation as a rulebreaker, like us."

"Let me know if you need a hand in a prank." Lory said, an impish smile playing at her lips. "It sounds like fun."

Fred and George exchanged mischievous looks, and then changed the subject to her homework. They helped her with it for the next hour or so, and then all three of them went down to dinner. In that moment, the Weasley twins knew that their world was about to change. From then on, they knew that Lory would be an integral part of their plots, and she knew that she would never suffer from boredom as long as she was at Hogwarts.

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A/N: sorry that kind of petered out at the end. I was just in a rush to finish, and I like finishing with a Lory/Weasley twin scene :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So... I still suck at updating. I'm sorry :( Also, I realize I've got the time line wacked out. Bare with me?

Disclaimer: I am still not J.K. Rowling. Only Lory and Apollo have come out of my own imagination.

Chapter Seven

Flying and Fighting

Harry and Ron returned from tea with Hagrid at dinner time, sitting across from Lory as always. Harry leaned across the table and murmured "We need to talk," while ladling up some stew. Lory raised her eyebrows but nodded, turning to her own meal. They ate in silence until pudding arrived. Then Harry cleared his throat and caught his twin's eye.

"I think I'll just go on to the library to finish that essay. Care to join me, Lore?" he asked pointedly.

"Um. Alright." Lory looked longingly at the plate piled high with fudge before standing and leaving the hall with Harry.

"Lore, you remember the package Hagrid took out of that vault at Gringott's?" Harry asked quietly the moment they were clear of the entrance hall.

"Vaguely." Lory frowned. "Why?"

"Well, the bank was broken into later that day, and the vault in question had just been emptied!" Harry looked at her with wide eyes. "You don't think it's a coincidence, do you?"

"It very well might be. There are hundreds of vaults in Gringott's. Loads of them are probably empty as well." Lory rolled her eyes.

"I still think it's suspicious." Harry muttered.

"Just don't go looking for trouble, alright?" Lory pleaded. "I like it here. It's better here than anywhere we've ever been before. If you get expelled for sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong, I'll be angry."

"Don't worry, Lory." Harry sighed. "I never want to go back to Privet Drive."

Both Potters grimaced at the thought of returning to their aunt and uncle's house before continuing up to the Gryffindor common room to collect their things. They spent the evening in the library, with Lory helping Harry with his Transfiguration essay.

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Over the following weeks, Lory and Harry realized there was a very good chance that they would never loathe anyone as much as they loathed Draco Malfoy. Luckily, first-year Gryffindors only had potions with the Slytherins, and Lory was actually quite good at that class so she didn't allow the rude boy to bother her too much. Then a notice was pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made all the first-years groan: flying lessons were to start on Thursday, and Gryffindors and Slytherins would be learning together.

"Typical." Lory heard her brother mutter darkly. "Just what I always wanted; to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

Lory looked at him sympathetically and gave him a pat on the shoulder. She knew that he had been looking forward to flying more than anything else, except perhaps learning how to turn Dudley into a real pig.

"You don't know that you're going to be rubbish." Ron said, in what Lory thought was meant to be a soothing manner. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet it's all talk."

Malfoy did talk about flying a lot. The twins always heard the blond git bragging about how he'd nearly flown into Muggles in helicopters, or else complaining that first-years couldn't play on house Quidditch teams. Harry had noticed that he wasn't the only one, thought: from Seamus Finnigan's stories, the boy had spent most of his childhood soaring around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron was fond of telling anyone who would listen that he'd nearly hit a hang-glider on his brother Charlie's old broom.

"You know, Harry, flying isn't all that hard." Ron was saying now. "In fact, have I ever told you about the time..."

"You got tangled in Ginny's kite and Mum had to get you down?" George had appeared behind his brother.

"We don't blame you for wanting to make it sound better, Ronniekins." Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder as he, too joined the group. "But don't lie to poor Harry here."

"Is flying difficult, then?" Lory asked, looking between the Weasley twins with wide eyes.

"Nah." Both shook their heads.

"Weasleys are natural flyers." Ron added proudly.

"Not all Weasleys." George corrected.

"Percy's awful. Only 'T' he's ever gotten." Fred looked downright smug.

"What's a T?" Harry queried, his expression more curious than gloomy now.

"Stands for 'troll'. It's the worst grade you can get." Fred answered. "But don't worry, Ron. If you're absolutely rubbish at flying, you can always make up for it by joining Percy in the pursuit of knowledge."

Ron looked horrified. Lory turned her laugh into a cough when he glared in her direction. Both Fred and George shifted their attention to Lory, apparently done teasing their brother.

"Is our ickle Lola nervous about flying with the mean, nasty Slytherins?" George asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Shall we come watch, to make sure you don't fall down?" Fred added.

"Why is it that even when you try to be nice, you two sound like you're mocking me?" Lory scowled, her good mood evaporating. "Besides, where'd you come up with Lola?"

"It's your new nickname, of course." George shrugged. "For all we tease, you lot shouldn't worry too much. There's plenty of people in your year who've never touched a broom in their lives."

"Yeah." Harry nodded reluctantly. "Neville said his Gran's never let him fly before."

"Oi! Fred, George, have you taken my badge?" Percy Weasley's angry voice carried across the room.

"That\s our cue." George winked.

"We hid it and left clues about his dorm." Fred grinned. "We've attached it to Hermes up in the owlery."

Harry, Ron, and Lory watched the twins dash out of the common room. Lory shook her head with a small smile. She didn't know why these boys felt it was their life's mission to annoy their older brother, but they were certainly good at it.

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Lory raised her eyebrows, impressed in spite of herself. And in spite of the simple matter that her friend was insane, of course. Hermione sat on her bed, a sizable book open in front of her. She was taking notes from it furiously.

"Hermione, I don't think this is a thing you can learn from books." Lory said tentatively.

"Of course I can't!" Hermione snapped. "But I can get tips, can't I?"

Lory raised both hands in surrender. Once Hermione got into the study zone, there was no reasoning with her. Apollo batted at Lory's elbow, annoyed that his mistress wasn't focusing her attention on him. She pulled him onto her lap and stroked his side absently.

"Come down to breakfast and eat, at least." Lory sighed. "It must say something in there about not flying on an empty stomach."

"It does, actually." Hermione looked up, frowning. "But I'm taking my book."

The girls went down to the Great Hall, Hermione still reading and Lory leading. Once they sat down across from Neville, Harry, and Ron, Hermione began to nervously spout off the flying tips she'd gotten from 'Quidditch Through The Ages'. Neville paid rapt attention, and when Lory caught Harry and Ron rolling their eyes at one another, she glared at them until they looked down, abashed. Hermione was soon interrupted by the arrival of mail.

Harry and Lory hadn't gotten a single letter since Hagrid's note, a fact that Malfoy noticed instantly. The blond liked to gloat over his own large care packages, filled with sweets. Both twins tried to ignore him, but Lory was usually more successful than Harry at this. An excited noise brought their attention to Neville. The boy had received a package from his grandmother, and he was now holding a glass ball.

"It's a Remembrall!" Neville explained happily. "Gran knows I forget things, and this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this, and if it turns red – oh..." his face fell, because the Remembrall suddenly glowed a bright, angry red, "you've forgotten something."

Neville was trying to remember what it was that he'd forgotten, with occasional suggestions from his friends about assignments in various classes, when Draco Malfoy passed by the Gryffindor table and snatched the Remembrall from his hand. Harry and Ron leaped to their feet, half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, while Lory, who was across the table, gripped her wand tightly under the surface. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, and was there in moments.

"Is there a problem here?" The stately witch asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor." Neville said quickly.

Scowling, Malfoy dropped the Remembrall back onto the table in front of Neville.

"Just looking." He sneered, and he strutted off with Crabbe and Goyle following.

"Carry on with your breakfast then," Professor McGonagall gave Harry and Ron a beady-eyed look until they sat down, and then swept off out of the Great Hall.

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At three-thirty that afternoon, the Gryffindors hurried down the front steps to the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day and Lory tipped her face up to enjoy the sunshine as they made their way down the sloping lawns towards a smooth lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest. Lory inhaled deeply, enjoying being outdoors on such a nice day. She almost forgot that she was nervous about the flying lesson.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Lory sighed. She and Harry had heard Fred and George complain about school broomsticks. Apparently some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Lory was just relaying this information to an eager Seamus Finnigan when Madam Hooch, the flying instructor arrived. She had short grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"

Lory stepped up beside a broom between Harry and Hermione. She surveyed the broomstick thoughtfully. It was old and some of the twigs looked like they were about to fall off.

"Stick your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called from the front, "And say, 'up'!"

"Up!" Everyone shouted.

Lory was pleased when hers flew into her hand with only a mild hesitation. She glanced over and saw that Harry's had risen as well. They were among the only ones in class, however, to be so successful. Hermione's broomstick had simply rolled over. Neville's wasn't doing anything at all. Lory thought maybe brooms were a bit like horses and could sense fear; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without falling off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy that he'd been doing it wrong for years, while Lory simply shook her head at their giggles.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – three, two..."

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet... twenty feet. Lory stood tensely, looking up at Neville's scared white face as the boy looked down at the ground. She saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM. The group winced at the thud and nasty crack that sounded as Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch had run over and was now bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harry and Lory heard her mutter. "Come on, boy. It's alright, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class, a stern expression on her face. "None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'!"

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Malfoy asked his classmates loudly. The other Slytherins joined in the laughter.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Parvati Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" sneered Pansy Parkinson, a hard faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought _you'd_ like him, Parvati."

"Look!" Malfoy exclaimed, rushing forward and snatching something up off the grass. "It's that stupid bauble Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in Malfoy's palm as it caught the light of the sun.

"Give it back, Malfoy." Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped talking at once to watch. Malfoy smiled nastily.

"Why don't I just leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about on top of a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled. Lory put a hand on his arm, but he shook it off violently.

Harry's ire was in vain. Malfoy had jumped on to his broomstick and taken off. Lory was dismayed to see that Malfoy really could fly well.

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom. Lory did the same.

"No!" Hermione shouted, gripping Lory's wrist. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all in trouble!"

Harry ignored her entirely. He mounted his broom and kicked off. It took Lory all of thirty seconds to shake Hermione off, grip one of Apollo's rubber ball she knew she'd had in her bag, and took off into the air with her brother. The air rushed around her, whipping her robes up. With a rush, Lory realized that flying was effortless and exhilarating. When she became level with her brother, he was turning his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. She did the same. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"You wouldn't." Malfoy tried to sneer, but looked rather worried.

Harry seemed to know what he was doing – he leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands and it shot towards Malfoy like a javelin. Lory watched, hovering there with one hand gripping the broom tightly and the other curled around the rubber ball, waiting for an opportunity. Malfoy got out of Harry's way just in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held his broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy." Lory called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then." he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high in the air.

Harry went after the ball, and Lory suddenly saw red: she hurled the rubber ball at Malfoy with all her might, and because the boy had started to streak toward the ground, it hit the target. Malfoy yelped as the cat toy struck his shoulder. Lory ducked her broom down and dove, beating Malfoy to the ground. Harry landed moments later, pulling out of an impressive dive. He had his left hand raised above his head triumphantly, having caught the Remembrall just a foot from the ground.

"HARRY AND LORELAI POTTER!"

Professor McGonagall was running towards them. The twins exchanged a grim look, both feeling their hearts sink. The dismounted their brooms, waiting patiently for the inevitable talking-to they would receive.

"Never, in all my years at Hogwarts..." The woman was almost speechless with shock when she reached them, and her glasses flashed furiously. "How dare you? You could have broken your necks!"

"It wasn't their fault, Professor!"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil."

"But Malfoy..." 

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potters, follow me." Professor McGonagall beckoned to the twins and turned on her heel. When they didn't follow instantly, she said, "now!"

They caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as they passed, following McGonagall numbly as she strode towards the castle. They were going to be expelled, they were sure. Lory opened her mouth to defend herself and her brother a few times, but nothing came out. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without looking at them; they had to jog to keep up. Now they'd done it. They'd not even lasted two months. What would the Dursleys say when they were returned to Number 4?

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't utter a word to either of them. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with the Potters trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking them to Dumbledore. Lory thought glumly of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps she and Harry could be Hagrid's assistants. Just the thought of being forced out of her classes and watching her new friends continue to learn, and become full-fledged witches and wizards made Lory tear up. Then Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. The woman opened the door and stuck her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? The twins exchanged a bewildered look, each mouthing the word at the other. Was Wood a cane she was going to use on them?

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Follow me, you three." said Professor McGonagall, and they marched up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at the first-years. "In here."

Professor McGonagall gestured to a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. Lory blushed when she read some of them.

"Out, Peeves!" McGonagall barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind the poltergeist and turned to face the two boys and Lory.

"Harry Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from confusion to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely." The teacher said crisply. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Harry nodded silently. He didn't have a clue what was goin on, but it didn't seem like he was going to be expelled.

"He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Harry?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team." Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's just the build for a Seeker, too." said Wood, now walking around Harry and staring at him. "Light, speedy – we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor. A Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"We'll make arrangements." Professor McGonagall put a hand on Lory's shoulder. "Wood. This is Lorelai Potter, Harry's sister. It seems flying runs in their family – she mounted her broom and was level with Harry at fifty feet in under a minute."

Wood's eyes snapped to the girl. She blushed self-consciously. Wood gave her the same once-over he'd given Harry.

"She's got a Seeker's build, too. Had you meant for me to have her as an alternate, Professor?" Wood asked.

"If she wishes. I don't see the point in rewarding one and punishing the other." Professor McGonagall gave one of her rare smiles.

"If it's all the same to you, Professor, I think I'm happier on the ground for now." Lory murmured. She didn't know why, but the prospect of being her brother's alternate wasn't that appealing to her. Besides, she didn't think it would be fun to fly around and catch a ball.

"Of course, it's your decision Miss Potter." McGonagall nodded. "I will, however, have to give you detention for throwing that ball at Mr Malfoy. We do not tolerate violence at Hogwarts."

"I understand, Professor." Lory looked down, abashed.

"No House Points will be taken, though. You accepted that detention admirably." McGonagall gave Lory's shoulder a soft squeeze and then released the girl. "Wood, I'll speak with Dumbledore and see if we can bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year. Absolutely flattened by Slytherin in the final match. I couldn't look Severus Snape in the eye for weeks..."

The woman peered at Harry over the tops of her spectacles. "I want to hear that you're training hard, Mr Potter, or I may reconsider punishing you." Then the woman smiled. "Your father would be proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

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Lory was listening to Harry telling Ron what had gone on after McGonagall had marched the twins into the castle as they ate dinner that night. Ron was so impressed by the news that Harry was on the Quidditch team that he forgot his meal. Lory was honestly shocked. Ron loved food nearly as much as she loved fiction.

"I start training next week." Harry said. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Then Fred and George came into the hall, spotted the trio, and hurried over. They took their usual seats flanking Lory.

"Well done." George murmured. "Wood told us. We're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win the Quidditch Cup for sure this year." Fred added, grinning. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry. Wood was practically skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go. Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school." George stood, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy we found in our first year." Fred also stood, then looked down at Lory. "Are you coming, then?"

"Yeah." Lory picked up her bag, stood, and waved at Harry and Ron. "See you."

The boys waved after her, looking a bit confused. She couldn't really blame them. Fred and George rarely bothered themselves with their younger brother, or any of the other first-years. As they were walking away from the Gryffindor table, Lory noticed Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle approaching the spot she'd just vacated.

"He's not worth it, Lola." George said, noticing where Lory was glancing.

"I wish he'd stop giving Ron a hard time." Fred's jovial expression tightened into a grimace. "Mum keeps asking why we're not looking after him properly."

"I got detention because of him today." Lory said softly. "When Harry confronted him, on the broomstick. I followed him up. I threw one of Apollo's rubber balls at him. I hope it bruised."

"Wait... you were the other one up there?" Fred stopped in the middle of the staircase. "And Wood didn't insist that you be on the team as well?"

"He said, 'two first-years are better than all five of you combined, and one of them is our new Seeker'." George shook his head. "With your build, you'd make a great Seeker."

"I declined. Flying around trying to catch a ball doesn't sound fun." Lory shrugged. The group began to climb the stairs again. "What is it that Beaters do?"

"Oh, we fly around..." George began.

"And there are these lead balls that zoom around the pitch, trying to hit the players..." Fred continued.

"And we hit them towards the other team as hard as we can with bats!" They finished together.

"That sounds fun." Lory's small face was earnest and intent. "Will you two teach me?"

"You're too small." Fred said instantly, shaking his head.

"What d'you mean, too small?" Lory asked sharply, her anger flaring instantly.

"Beaters are usually bigger – built more like us." George explained. "Y'know. Solid, muscled. Bludgers are really heavy."

"Besides," Fred's eyes turned wicked again. "You need good aim to be a Beater."

"I have good aim!" Lory shouted.

Both Weasley twins chuckled and draped arms around Lory's shoulders. They continued to tease her until they came upon Lee Jordan, who had in fact found the passageway behind Gregory the Smarmy. The three boys spent the rest of their evening teaching Lory how to get around using the passages they knew of in the school and on the twins' part, poking fun at Lory's aim, until Fred finally made Lory angry enough that she removed her shoe and threw it at him – missing by four feet.

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A/N 2: And there it is, folks. I put a considerable amount of time into writing and checking this over. But that's okay, because my university is on strike. Please read, review, and suggest this to friends you think may enjoy a Harry Potter with more of the Weasley twins in it. Constructive criticism is accepted, but flames may make me cry. :D


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I know, I suck at updating – but you knew that already. I do have one stipulation this time, though – I'd like at least one review on this chapter, since I didn't get any on the last one. If no one likes it, I may as well scrap the project.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you might recognize.

Chapter Eight

Detention With Snape and Other Bad Luck

Fred, George, and Lee deposited Lory at the Gryffindor common room shortly after seven o'clock, saying that they had important prankster business elsewhere in the castle that was too delicate to entrust to a first-year. Lory had rolled her eyes at them, but retreated into the common room without complaint. She had made it two feet into the room before she stopped and frowned. She'd spotted her brother and Ron, sitting at a table near the stairs to the boys' dormitory with their heads bent low over a scrap of parchment. Lory didn't at all like the expressions on their faces. Before she could approach them and find out what they were up to, Percy appeared at her side.

"Lorelai, Professor McGonagall sent me to find you and bring you to Professor Snape for your detention. You're late." Percy informed her, placing a hand on her shoulder and steering her toward the portrait hole. "You should really try to refrain from these little outbursts from now on, Lorelai. It does no good for Gryffindor's reputation if its first-years are in detention so near the start of the year."

"Fred and George are in detention loads more than I am," Lory protested. By now they were off at a brisk pace towards the dungeons.

"Precisely the reason you should stop gallivanting with them." Percy replied, keeping his eyes forward. "They're terrible influences on you, clearly."

"I got this detention on my own." Lory snapped, unable to keep her irritation in check. "It was my temper, and they have no influence on that."

"Clearly." Percy sniffed, ignoring Lory's glare.

They remained silent the rest of the way to the dungeons, where Percy left her outside the door to Snape's office. Lory decided then and there that she didn't like Percy one bit, and made up her mind to pull some prank on him that would compare to something his brothers did. She took a deep breath, beginning to very seriously dread this detention, and knocked on the door to Snape's office.

"You're late, Miss Potter." Snape called from within. "Enter quickly. I'd appreciate if you didn't waste any more of my evening than you already have."

Lory opened the door just enough to slip inside, then closed it softly behind her. Snape was looking at her appraisingly with those cold black eyes. Then he blinked and nodded toward a cauldron off to the side of the room.

"Madam Pomfrey is running low on pepper-up potion for the hospital wing. The instructions are there. Brew it and bottle it, then be on your way." Snape turned his attention back to the essays he was grading.

Lory went over to the cauldron, peering at it warily. The instructions for the pepper-up potion were beside all necessary ingredients on a small table next to the cauldron. She read through them once and began to prepare the ingredients carefully, following the instructions methodically. She didn't want to have to redo this, or get another detention with Snape for being sloppy with a school potion. She was soon immersed in the project, so much so that she didn't notice Snape watching her keenly.

Once she'd prepared all the ingredients, she turned her attention to the cauldron with a frown. There was no fire beneath it, and pepper-up potion was useless without being boiled. Snape had just lifted his wand to help her when she muttered, "Fire," under her breath, and a small fire started below the cauldron. Snape's mouth dropped open in shock. He'd never seen such magic, and he'd seen some incredible things in his life. He made a mental note to discuss this with the headmaster.

An hour later, Lory deposited twenty phials of the potion on Snape's desk. The man nodded briskly, a dismissal. As she reached the door, Lory turned back towards the professor.

"Thanks for lighting the fire, sir." She said quickly, then disappeared.

For some reason, that disturbed Snape more.

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"Oi, Lola!"

Lory turned and grinned. She should've known one of the twins would retrieve her from her first detention. George was leaning against the wall beside the door to Snape's office, a crooked smile on his face.

"You've had quite the day, Sprout." He clapped her on the shoulder and they began to make their way back to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower.

"Where is Fred?" Lory asked. "It's a rare moment when one of you is without the other."

"He and Lee are putting the finishing touches on the prank." George stuck his hands in his pockets, his smile broadening. "You'll be impressed, I think."

"I'm sure." Lory laughed. "Let me know next time you plan anything on Percy. He's a git."

"Try living with him." George offered, his expression still good-natured.

"No thanks. I did dare to swipe this from my detentino, though." Lory offered a phial of pepper-up potion she'd pocketed. "Maybe we could slip it into his pumpkin juice in the morning."

"Snape made pepper-up potion? What did he have you do? Pickle slugs?"

"No?" Lory hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but somehow it did anyway. "I made the potion."

"Lory, this is advanced stuff." George stopped and stared at the phial with slack-jawed awe. "This is a third year potion."

"Is it? It wasn't that difficult." Lory frowned.

"Lola, d'you know what this means?" George asked in a hushed voice, his grin slowly returning.

"I can do your potions homework?" Lory guessed.

"No! Wait – would you?" George looked from the phial to his friend before shaking his head. "Never mind! No, it means that we've got ourselves a potions master for our pranks! This is wonderful! Lee's rubbish at potions, and Fred and I aren't much better."

"I'll do it if you teach me how to be a beater."

"Done."

The two of them hurried up to Gryffindor Tower before they were caught out of bed by Filch. Lory was grinning like a fool and George was practically dancing. Both had gotten exactly what they'd wanted from their new arrangement, and it went unspoken between them that neither would tell Fred about the Beater training.

"Lory, you have to be the one to administer this." George murmured as they climbed through the portrait hole. "Percy won't expect anything from you. And he never leaves food alone with us nearby anymore."

"Alright." Lory nodded, taking the potion back from him. Then she spotted Harry and Ron stretching dramatically near the stairs, making a show of going up to bed. "Excuse me. I get the feeling that our brothers are about to do something even more bone-headed than usual."

"May the Force be with you." George grimaced, following her gaze.

Lory waved and made her way over to the boys.

"What are you two up to?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "And don't say 'nothing', because I know that expression, Harry. That's your lying face."

"We're not 'up to' anything, Lory. We're tired. We're going to bed." Harry protested, his face flushing and a panicked look appearing in his eyes.

"You're both stupid, I hope you know that." Lory informed them with a scowl before turning on her heel and heading up to the girls' dorm, leaving them staring after her.

"Your sister is absolutely terrifying, Harry." Rom muttered just loudly enough for Lory to hear.

Once she was safely in the first year girls' dormitory, Lory greeted Lavender and Parvati quietly. The girls were just climbing into their beds, and wished Lory a good night. Hermione was sitting on her bed, glowering at a book and petting a purring Apollo absently. Lory tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow quizzically.

"Your brother hasn't got any sense at all." Hermione hissed. "He and Ron are going to sneak out of the tower at midnight because Draco Malfoy challenged them to a wizard's duel. It's obviously a trap to have them caught out of bed."

"They're stupid." Lory agreed with a sigh, going to her trunk and withdrawing her pyjamas. "I don't see what we can do about it, though."

"We can stop them!" Hermione cried, earning glares and shushes from Parvati and Lavender. "We can tell Percy!"

"No." Lory snapped, her voice muffled by her night shirt. "Percy couldn't do anything helpful. He'd just take points away from Gryffindor because they planned on sneaking out."

"Well, I'm not about to just sit here and let them get into such trouble." Hermione pulled a dressing gown on over her pyjamas, slid into her slippers, and stalked from the room.

Lory sighed and tugged her flannel pants on. She was considering staying in the dormitory and crawling into bed with her poor, neglected cat, but after a moment her conscience kicked in and she stuffed her feet into her own slippers and followed Hermione down to the common room.

No one was in the large room when she emerged from the stairwell, but the portrait hole was swinging shut. She made a beeline for it and slipped out just before it closed all the way. She glanced around, then spotted them: Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville about twenty feet up the corrider. Lory trotted up to them, a frown on her face. What was Neville doing there?

"Lory?" Harry looked at his sister, surprised and bemused. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know. I just got back to my dorm, ready to spend a quiet night in my cozy bed, when Hermione tells me that you two are off to a midnight duel with Malfoy." Lory's frown deepened. "Haven't you done enough stupid things involving Malfoy for today?"

"Listen to reason, Harry! You'll lose loads of points for Gryffindor!" Hermione pleaded.

"If you're concerned, Hermione, why don't you go back to the tower?" Ron asked pointedly. "And you can take Lory and Neville back with you, while you're at it."

"I'm not going anywhere until the two of your come to your sense and go back to bed!" Hermione snapped.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Neville exclaimed, his voice trembling. "The Fat Lady has gone visiting, and the Bloody Baron's gone be three times already."

"Of course we won't leave you, Neville." Lory said soothingly, then turned a glare on her brother, adding, "will we, Harry?"

"Fine, come with." Harry glowered at Lory. "Just be quiet, alright?"

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies that Quirrell told us about and used it on you." Ron promised darkly.

Hermione began to open her mouth, probably to tell Ron precisely how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but closed it again at Lory's dark look. The five of them shuffled off down the hall, taking care to be quiet. They flitted through the corridors of Hogwarts, which were lit only by the moon shining through the high windows. Lory was sure that they'd run into Filch or Mrs Norris at every turn, and from Harry's expression, so was he. The group was lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed to the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there. Lory didn't really expect for them to actually turn up, so she looked about the room idly. The crystal trophy cases glittered in the moonlight, and cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold all around. She broke away from the group, padding silently along the rows and rows of trophies, taking in the names engraved upon them and making her way toward another door half hidden at the far end of the room. She wasn't sure how long they'd been waiting at this point; probably no more than ten minutes.

"He's late. Maybe he's chickened out." Ron's voice floated over from the other side of the room.

Then a noise in the next room made Lory whirl around. She cursed herself for not bringing her wand, and she heard someone speak – and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet. They might be lurking in a corner."

Lory froze. It was Filch and Mrs Norris! She wished fervantly that she'd brought Apollo with her to distract the other cat, and began slowly backing towards the door in the corner. Just when she caught sight of Filch's lamp beginning to round the corner towards her, two things happened: a clatter arose from across the room, almost like a trophy case had fallen over, and Lory was yanked backwards into the room behind the door by two pairs of hands.

Looking up, she saw Fred and George standing there in their nightclothes. She made to open her mouth, but George pressed his finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow Fred. The boy had already started down the hidden corridor at a brisk pace, and Lory had to trot to catch up. Once they were a safe distance away, and probably near the Gryffindor common room, Lory asked how they'd found her.

"Apollo woke us," Fred yawned. "Damned cat is really intelligent, Lor."

"Once we were up, and had a grip on the situation, it was easy enough to get you out. The others weren't near enough the doors." George shrugged. The trio never stopped moving through the secret passages as they spoke, but they had slowed to a more casual pace.

"Yes, but how did you know where we were?" Lory asked impatiently.

"Promise not to tell?" George asked with a wink.

"Of course I won't tell." Lory sighed. "Now get on with it."

"Impatient are we?" Fred arched an eyebrow. "We've a special map of the castle. It shows everything."

"Even people." George continued. "We knew you were in deep trouble when we saw Filch's name show up on the third floor while you lot were in the trophy room."

"Oh." Lory nodded. They'd reached the common room, where the Fat Lady admitted them with a sniff of disapproval. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Fred tousled her hair affectionately. "You've already had one detention today."

"But seriously, don't tell Ron we couldn't get him out too. He'd tell Mum." George became solemn momentarily.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them I found the door on my own. I was heading for it anyway." Lory shrugged, then yawned widely. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, gents."

"Night." The twins called after her.

Lory went up to her dorm to find that Apollo was curled up on her pillow again, purring in his sleep.

"You are a very helpful, and exceedingly meddlesome creature." Lory murmured, sinking onto the bed. "Thank you."

Apollo did not dignify her thanks with a reply and merely twitched his tail. Lory rolled her eyes at his appropriately superior feline behaviour. She stroked his back until she heard angry mutterings from the hallway. She glanced up as Hermione came in, and the other girl glared at her. Lory sighed and motioned for Hermione to follow her into the bathroom. Once they were standing on the cool white tile floor, with the door shut behind them, Hermione exploded.

"Where did you disappear off to? We had no idea whether Filch had caught you, or if you were lost somewhere. And then I ran into Fred and George downstairs, and they said you were up here, probably asleep." Hermione's voice got louder as she spoke, and Lory had the impression that she was perhaps angry.

"I'd wandered away from the lot of you." Lory explained. "I am sorry, truly, but I couldn't have rejoined you if I'd tried. Mrs Norris nearly had me until I found a hidden door in the wall. I was lost for a bit, but I ran into Fred and George on their way up from the kitchens."

Hermione seemed to thaw a bit, because her stance became less defensive. She ran her fingers through her bushy hair, biting her lip in concentration. Lory, yawning widely, waited rather impatiently for her friend to figure out what to say. Finally, Lory sighed.

"Look, Mione, can we finish this tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

"Hm?" Hermione looked up, startled. "Sure. Tomorrow."

"Goodnight." Lory pushed her way back into the main dormitory and fought her cat for dominance over the pillow before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

(star)(star)(star) 

Lory found herself being kept busy with lessons and homework over the next two weeks. Nothing really notable had happened, with the exception of Harry receiving his new broom – a top of the line Nimbus 2000. Both Fred and George had commented on its superior quality the next time she'd seen them after Harry's first quidditch practice. George had also slipped Lory a note telling her to be at the quidditch pitch right after supper the night before Halloween. The girl couldn't remember the last time she'd been so excited to learn something as she was that day of her first Beater lesson.

"Harry, can I borrow your broom for an hour or so?" Lory asked her brother at dinner that night.

"Why?" Harry asked, startled.

"I want to fly round the quidditch pitch a bit. Fred or George will probably be there also." Lory shrugged. "Please?"

"Alright." Harry nodded reluctantly. "But be careful with it, yeah?"

"I won't harm a twig in its tail." Lory promised solemnly before leaping up and running from the Great Hall to fetch the broom.

She was crossing the Entrance Hall, broom over shoulder and whistling a happy tune, when she met up with George. He grinned at her, and they headed down the sloping grounds to the quidditch pitch. Once there, George led her into the locker rooms and started piling various padding into Lory's arms.

"There. That should be enough." He said, putting a slightly-oversized helmet atop her ebony curls.

"Why aren't you wearing any padding?" Lory queried, pulling on the arm and shin braces.

"I don't need it. I'm not going to be the one beating the Bludger today." George replied, helping her cinch on the wrist gear. "You'll need a bat – there should be some over there, by the door."

Lory wandered over, slightly dwarfed in all the padding, and examined the bats. She ran her fingers over a few, and lifted them to test their weight. George laughed at her overly serious expression, which earned him a scowl. He sobered a bit, still grinning, and stretched over her to grab a bat that was slightly longer than the one she was currently holding.

"Here. Try this one." He handed it to her. "Fred and I usually fight over it. I'm not sure why. It's only a quarter inch longer than a regulation bat."

"Trying to overcompensate?" Lory asked, a slight smirk betraying her otherwise innocent expression.

George laughed and steered her from the locker rooms. He retrieved a small chest from the equipment room and set it between them. Lory mounted Harry's Nimbus and took a few warm-up laps around the stadium while George fiddled with the lock on the chest.

"Okay, Lola. Your goal for today is to protect me from the Bludger." George instructed the girl when she returned to him. "Just whack the thing away if it comes near. I'll be flying around, so stick close."

She nodded, and he opened the chest. A lead ball hurtled straight into the air, and then began circling the pitch. Lory and George kicked off the ground and flew in random patterns. The Bludger streaked towards George, and Lory felt her stomach tie itself up in knots and then lodge in her throat. She levered her arm back, squeezed her eyes shut, and swung. Her bat connected with a solid 'thwack' and went zooming off in the other direction.

"Well done." George said enthusiastically. "Let's try a few more times, and pack it in for the night."

Over the next half hour, Lory smacked the Bludger away from George six more times with varying degrees of success. Once, she miscalculated her swing and George's position, and it was only with a skillful dive roll that the ball missed the boy. When they finally caught the Bludger and wrestled it back into its chest, the sun had sunk fully beyond the horizon.

"You'll do just fine, Lola. I wouldn't be surprised if you made the team as a reserve next year." George told her as they headed back up the grounds to the castle.

"I'll just wait until you and Fred are gone. I don't want to take your positions." Lory shrugged. "Besides, flying doesn't feel like it's that important to me."

"You'll change your mind after some practice." George assured her. "I was the same way my first year. Oh, and as for your end of the bargain..."

"What do you have in mind?" Lory asked warily as they entered the castle through a small door near the steps. "And where are we?"

"We're going in through Hagrid's entrance – it leads into lower levels." George waved his explanation away indifferently. "Fred, Lee, and I are thinking of a prank that involves a sticking solution, and you're just the girl to make it for us."

"If you can get me the ingredients and the instructions, I can do my best." Lory promised.

"That's my girl!" George exclaimed. "Now come on. It's not curfew yet, but being out this late makes me tetchy."

Lory followed the older boy and wondered, not for the first time, what on earth she'd gotten herself into by becoming friends with the Weasley twins.

(star)(star)(Star) 

A/N: I'm sorry. I suck at updating. But school literally beat me with a bag full of textbooks.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I'm sorry! I'm an awful updater – but I've been so busy, and most of this is already written, it just needs to be typed and posted. This chapter is a little longer, and if you review before the next chapter is up, I'll give you a snippet of the prologue from Goblet of Fire.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except for Lory.

Chapter Nine

Halloween, Quidditch, and More Detention

Lory stared at the feather on the desk before her, a frown furrowing her brow. She was in Charms, attempting to master the levitation charm with very little success. Next to her, Hermione sighed and lifted her own wand.

"You swish and flick your wand. Like this." Hermione demonstrated.

Lory nodded and attempted the spell again, wishing fervently that she were in potions. She may have disliked Snape, but at least she understood the subject.

"No, no." Hermione interrupted Lory's inner musings. "It's 'wingardium levi_o_sa', not 'levio_sa_'."

Lory nodded again, took a deep breath and imitated Hermione. She was so focused on her task that she missed the scowl that Ron gave Hermione over his shoulder. Moments later, Lory's feather drifted upwards and she cheered enthusiastically, drawing a few amused looks from her classmates.

"There, it's not so difficult, is it?" Hermione asked, forcing a small smile onto her lips. Her tone was downtrodden although her words were light.

"What's wrong?" Lory asked, her joy replaced with concern for her friend. "Was it Ron? Because I can maim him for you if you want."

Hermione was saved from answering by a small explosion near the front of the room. Somehow, Seamus had managed to incinerate his feather and singe his eyebrows rather than levitate the thing. Lory was still chuckling five minutes later when Flitwick let them go to dinner.

"Are you excited for your first Halloween at Hogwarts, Hermione?" Lory asked, flicking her long braid over her shoulder after she'd calmed down.

"Yes. Percy said the feast was really good." Hermione nodded, still very subdued.

"Can you believe her?" Ron's voice carried over to the girls, although he was several students ahead of them. "Correcting Lory like that? 'It's levi_o_sa, not levio_sa_.' And she wonders why everyone hates her."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she pushed her way through the crowd towards a girls' loo. Lory saw red and shoved her way up to Ron and Harry. Those in her way scrambled to move when they saw her face.

"What's wrong with you?" she shouted, placing her hand on Ron's shoulder and pulling him around to face her. "Did you stop to think that maybe Hermione was helping me?"

"Lory, I..." Ron wasn't given a chance to explain, however, because Lory wasn't done yelling yet.

"No, you know what? I don't care." Lory glared up at the taller boy. "But if you value your peace of mind, you will apologize to her before the night is over. She's a good person, and you'd be lucky to be her friend."

Lory shoved past an open-mouthed Ron and an embarrassed Harry and made her way to the bathroom where Hermione had barricaded herself. Lory pushed her way in and dropped her bag near the door.

"Hermione?" She called softly, then stood still and listened for a moment. She followed the sound of sniffles to a stall near the end of a row. "Hermione?"

"Go away, Lory." Hermione sniffed. "You don't have to be nice to me, you know. I'm apparently nothing but rude to you."

"Ron's a prat." Lory said darkly. "You were helping me, and I appreciate it. Truly. I don't understand Charms very well, and you were being decent. Now why don't we go down to dinner?"

"You go ahead. I want to freshen up." Hermione opened that door and gave Lory a weak smile. "Thanks, Lory."

"No problem," Lory grinned. "Why don't I just go down and get us some food? We can eat in the common room and not have to deal with any idiots, my brother included."

"Sounds good." Hermione nodded appreciatively.

"Alright. I'll meet you up there then." Lory retrieved her bag and started down to the Great Hall. She couldn't help but think the castle felt almost eerie when it was so quiet.

As she reached the top of the wide marble staircase that led down to the Entrance Hall, Lory noticed Professor Quirrell pacing in front of the double doors of the Great Hall. She raised an eyebrow curiously and started down the steps. Then, Quirrell threw open the door and launched himself into the room. She heard him shout something, and the crowd of students within shrieked. As Lory reached the bottom of the stairs, people began streaming out of the Great Hall led by prefects. She caught sight of Fred and George, whose eyes widened at the sight of her. They sped up to flank her and began to herd her back up the stairs, turning her round and each placing a hand on the small of her back.

"What's going on?" Lory demanded.

"There's a troll loose in the dungeons." Fred's hand moved from her back to her left bicep. "Dumbledore wants everyone back in the common rooms."

"But Hermione is still in the girl's loo!" Lory protested, trying to get free. "She was going to meet me in the common room after I got us dinner."

"She's probably already up there." George said soothingly, his hand also slipping up to her right bicep. "But we'll check for her if she's not, alright?"

Lory nodded and allowed the Weasley twins to lead her back to the common room, where not only was Hermione absent, but Harry and Ron were as well. Fred and George rolled their eyes when they found out from Parvati and Lavender that the boys had gone off to rescue Hermione, because Lory had made them feel guilty for making her run off in the first place.

"We'll just have to wait until Percy's not guarding the portrait hole anymore." Fred murmured, keeping an eye on his older brother. "Then we can go and kick Ron's sorry arse."

"I can't believe that we're related to that prat." George added with a scowl. "Honestly, it's like he hasn't got a brain."

Lory spotted Apollo on a chair near the fire and fetched him, thinking he might calm her nerves. She agreed with George, of course, but she couldn't say much. Her own brother had a hero complex, after all.

"Lola?"

Lory's head snapped up, and she noticed both Fred and George looking at her with concern. She sighed and let her head roll back so that she was staring at the ceiling.

"He's going to be the death of me someday." she groaned. "Why can't I be the insane, noble one?"

"Are you saying you're sane, love?" Fred asked, his left eyebrow lifting. "Because you're standing before us, claiming to be our friend. We don't know anyone who's sane."

"It's true, Fred." George nodded, pasting a dejected expression on his face. "We're going to have to discontinue the friendship. Shame, that."

"You can't discontinue our friendship." Lory smiled, wondering why she felt warmth flushing her cheeks when Fred called her 'love'. "I know terrible secrets about you that you probably wouldn't want to get out."

"Oh?" Fred plucked Apollo out of Lory's arms and began stroking him. "And what sort of secrets would those be?"

"Well, for starters, I know that you, Fred, still have a teddy bear called Mr Cuddles but you leave him at home." Lory smirked as the boy blushed the same shade as his hair. George sputtered with laughter until Lory turned her attention his way. "And you, George, enjoy cooking."

"Who told you?" George asked, also blushing.

"Does it matter?" Lory asked. "It's not like I'd genuinely blackmail either of you. Aside from Harry, you're my first friends."

"Well, Georgie, d'you suppose we reconsider our no-sane-friends policy?" Fred asked, looking at his brother.

"We might have to, Fred." George replied with an exaggerated sigh. "But only because she's brilliant with potions."

"I'm still disappointed that Percy never drank his pumpkin juice that day I put pepper-up potion in it." Lory scowled and watched Apollo climb up Fred's arm, looking like he was ready to pounce. "He's going to bite you, you know."

"What'd I do to him?" Fred asked bemused as Apollo did attempt to eat the boy's ear.

"He's just got good taste?" George quipped.

As Lory and Fred chuckled at George's joke, the portrait hole swung open. The room went quiet as Hermione tumbled in. People shrugged, disinterested and went back to their conversations. Lory excused herself from the Weasleys and made her way over to Hermione.

"Thank goodness you're alright!" She cried, throwing her arms around the bushy-haired girl. "Where's Harry?"

"He and Ron are still talking to Professor McGonagall." Hermione answered. "They saved me from the troll."

"You're lucky." Fred told her with uncharacteristic seriousness, dislodging Apollo from his shoulder and depositing him on his owner's head. "Those trolls are stupid, but that wouldn't stop it from crushing you."

"I shudder to think what would have happened if Ron hadn't used the levitation charm and knocked the thing out with its own club." Hermione smiled. "I'm going to wait for them by the door."

Hermione skipped up to the portrait hole, Lory and the twins watching her. All three had quietly speculative looks on their faces, and each was wondering what this new development meant for Lory's friendship with the other girl.

"Did she just say ickle Ronniekins saved the day?" George asked finally.

Lory shook her head, nonplussed. "She's talking about the same Ron who caused her to be in that loo in the first place, right?"

"The magical world works in mysterious ways." Fred blinked. "I suppose you'll have more time to babysit us, now Hermione will be babysitting them."

"Excellent. Because we've got this potions essay due for Snape on Monday, and we haven't the faintest idea of how to do it." George grinned at the girl. "Think you could give us a hand, Lola?"

"I probably could." Lory looked at the twins warily. "What's the catch?"

"It's supposed to be two rolls of parchment." Fred said.

"And ours aren't to look similar in any way."

Lory groaned. "I'm only giving you an outline, then. There's no way I'm writing two essays on the same subject that I'll just have to rewrite in two years."

"Three, actually." Lee Jordan, the twins' friend pushed his way over. "Would you mind helping me, too?"

"Alright, then. Go get your things, and we'll start." Lory shook her head and caught Apollo as he slid off her shoulder. "Honestly, you'd think that they would be helping me with my homework, wouldn't you, Apollo?"

The cat gave a contented meow and fell asleep on her lap once she'd commandeered a table. The boys rejoined her a short while later and the four of them constructed essays that Lory hoped Snape would find acceptable.

(star)(star)(Star)

Lory found herself feeling very lonely as November drew on. Hermione was spending increasing amounts of time with Harry and Ron, and Lory occasionally joined them but didn't feel that she belonged there despite her brother's best efforts. Fred, George, and Harry had Quidditch practice most evenings and were dead tired by the time they returned to the common room. Lory still helped with a few basic potions for Lee and the twins, but George had postponed her Beater lessons until Wood eased up on Quidditch training.

One of the bright points in Lory's weeks were when Harry's snowy owl would bring her letters from her newest friend – the youngest Weasley sibling, Ginny. Lory had begun writing her shortly after befriending Fred and George, who had told her that Ginny was very lonely being the only child still at the Burrow.

"Who are you writing to all the time?" Fred asked one evening as they were lounging in the common room.

"Ginny." Lory replied distractedly.

"Ginny? As in, our sister Ginny?" George blinked. "Lola, why are you writing our sister?"

"You said yourselves that she's lonely." Lory shrugged. "And she seems to enjoy having a girl other than your mum to talk to. Maybe a bit too much. I'm trying to explain to her why I don't want to marry Ron."

Fred flushed at that while George snickered. Lory smiled at them, glad they weren't offended that she was practically insulting their brother. She couldn't even describe how amazingly lucky she felt to be involved in their lives, to have friends who accepted her as she was.

"Don't worry, Lola. I'm sure we'll find some way to trap you into the Weasley family so Gin can finally have a sister." George tousled her hair, pulling a chunk loose from the ponytail it was in. "Whoops. Sorry."

"No problem." Lory looked back down at the letter. "Anything either of your want to say?"

"Tell her we're going to trounce Slytherin tomorrow." Fred leaned back and grinned cheekily. "Wood's made sure of that."

"Oh, don't worry. I've already told her how lonesome I am because of Quidditch." Lory stuck her tongue out. "I hardly ever see my own twin anymore."

Lory bent her head over the letter once more, signing her name at the bottom and adding a postscript. She missed the look the boys sent one another over her head: Fred's jaw was clenched, George's eyes sad. When Lory looked up again, the twins were back at their Charms essays. She didn't know that they'd been subtly pushing Harry to spend more time with her, like he had before Hogwarts and new friends – they dropped hints at Quidditch practice most times, but the younger boy seemed oblivious. Secretly, they worried that his new found fame was going to his head.

"Do you think you could explain the tickling charm wand movement?" The girl asked quietly. "Usually Hermione helps me, but she and Ron are working on something to do with Nicholas Flammel for History of Magic in the library, and Harry's probably with them."

"Sure. Charms is our best subject." Fred flashed her his cheeky grin again. "Georgie?"

"You do it. I'll finish up our essays." George leaned across the table and snatched Fred's assignment. He looked at it and grimaced. "Bad news, Freddy. We've done it again."

"We'll sort that out later – Percy's just walked in, and might be convinced to be of help to an ickle firstie." Fred's blue eyes got a mischievous glint in them, and he winked at Lory. "Now, the wand movement is just a grand swoop – like this." He demonstrated. "Go ask, Lory. Percy can be your target."

Lory nodded slowly, then walked over to the chair Percy had just settled himself in. She approached him tentatively, working out what to say to make the elder boy help her. She decided to stroke his ego, make him feel important.

"Percy?" She asked softly, coming to a stop to the left of his seat.

"Yes, Lorelai?" Percy looked up at her impatiently. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with Charms. Fred tried, but he didn't really help, and since you're a prefect and all I thought you'd be better."

"Of course." Percy turned pink and it looked like he was puffing up with importance. "What are you struggling with?"

"The tickling charm. I just can't seem to get the right swoop." Lory explained.

The two of them went over to an open area of the common room not far from where Fred and George sat. The twins' eyes were fixated on their brother, and Lory sighed. She wasn't much in the mood for pranks, but if Fred was getting her to do this, she knew he meant to cheer her up. Neither of them showed it, but they cared deeply for those they let in to their private, twin lives, and Lory didn't have the heart to let them know she could see through them. She didn't know herself what it meant that she'd fit herself so completely into their lives that she knew them like she knew herself, and often wished that she had such a bond with her own twin.

"Are you ready, Lorelai?" Percy asked, drawing Lory out of her thoughts. She nodded and raised her wand. "Aim for that chair over there – no need charming anyone for practice."

"Good luck, Lola!" George called from his table.

Lory glanced over and saw Fred miming the motion of the spell and pointing to a spot on the far wall that she was to aim towards. She gave him a half smile and a slight nod before mimicking his movement and saying the incantation clearly. She shifted at the last moment and a jet of pink light streaked across the room, hit a mirror, and streaked back to Percy.

"Perhaps – (**giggle)** – we should try this – (snort) – some other time." Percy hurried away, doubling over every few feet and laughing uproariously with Lory calling half-hearted apologies after him.

"Lory, that was excellent!" Fred cried, appearing at her side and draping an arm round her shoulders. He had to bend his knees slightly to do so. "Merlin, Lor, you're tiny!"

"Thanks, Fred." Lory said dryly. "I love being told I'm a midget. It just makes my day."

"Anytime, love." Fred led her back to the table. "On the up side, now you're set for that Charm."

"When do you need that sticking solution? It's nearly finished." Lory asked, looking up at the twins as she sat down across from them.

"Probably Monday would be best." George replied, still focused on his essay. "We think we're going to stick Marcus Flint to the bench in the Great Hall, or maybe stick Wood's broom to his trousers at practice. Depends how the match tomorrow goes."

Lory laughed and pulled out a Transfiguration assignment. George's words stuck in her head, and she began to concoct a plan of her own.

(star)(star)(star)

The next morning the Gryffindor table was buzzing with excitement. Lory was seated as usual between Fred and George and across from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, listening to the older boys talk about Quidditch matches they'd played the previous year. Harry was prodding at his breakfast meekly.

"And then Diggory got the quaffle and started toward the goal post – "

"He thought we were paying more attention to protecting Charlie, probably, because he was kind of a bludger magnet – "

"And Wood was indisposed, having been knocked silly by a stray bludger that we've still not heard the end of." George grimaced, shooting a look down at Wood. "Anyway, our hoops were undefended, and they only needed one goal to be even with us if they caught the snitch. We couldn't let that happen, of course."

"So you hit the bludger at him and saved the day?" Lory asked, arching her eyebrows as she reached for a slice of toast.

"Merlin, no." Fred laughed. "George here hit a bludger at him, yes, but it missed and hit me, so I threw my bat at Georgie. Turns out, I'd miscalculated the wind. Knocked the quaffle right out of Diggory's hand."

"Heard he was asked to change positions this year because of that." George mused, glancing over at the Hufflepuff table.

"Weasleys!" Wood barked. "If you're quite finished with reliving last year's embarrassments, perhaps you lot could join us for our strategy meeting?"

Lory stifled a laugh as Fred and George sat up straight and saluted the older boy rigidly. They both winked at Lory and escorted themselves out of the Great Hall with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Lory mouthed 'good luck' to her very pale twin, who waved in return. Lory, Hermione, and Ron joined the other Gryffindor first years at the doors to the Great Hall.

"This is going to be excellent!" Ron cheered, pumping his fists in the air as they left the castle. "I've never seen an actual Quidditch match live!"

"I've seen a few practices – the Wasps sometimes use a field near my place." Seamus grinned. "This is going to be great."

"How long do these things usually last?" Hermione asked, glancing at her watch.

"Lighten up, Hermione!" Lory laughed, turning her face up to the sun. "Take a few hours out of your Saturday and enjoy yourself."

"The Transfiguration essay..."

"Isn't due until week after next. And you're likely done it already anyway." Lory turned her attention back to her friend. "Come on. It's one of the last nice days of autumn. Let's make the most of it."

Reluctantly Hermione followed her friends up into the stands and managed to cheer enthusiastically, infected by the overwhelming excitement in the air. Lory felt a nudge to her left and was handed one end of a large banner that Dean Thomas had made that read 'Potter for President'.

"Budge up there, would you?"

Lory's head whipped around and she beamed over at Hagrid. She waved for him to join them, glad that she and her friends were sitting in the back row so there was room for the very tall man.

"Hagrid!" She called. "Come sit with us!"

"Hello, Lory." Hagrid grinned back as he picked his way through students. "Haven't seen you in a while. Harry says you're getting up to mischief with the Weasley twins."

"Only sometimes." Lory smiled impishly. "They get caught more than I do."

"What brings you up here, Hagrid?" Ron called from Hermione's other side.

"Couldn't miss Harry's first match." Hagrid replied, and Lory heard pride in his voice. "He reminds me a lot of James."

"My dad?" Lory asked.

"Yeah. Your dad was a great Quidditch player." Hagrid nodded absently. "Oh look – here they come."

Lory peered down at the field and saw fourteen people walk to the center to join Madam Hooch, seven in red robes and seven in green. Lory cheered enthusiastically with the rest of Gryffindor house, rising to her feet and jumping up and down. Even through her excitement, she couldn't help noticing how very small her brother looked out there, and she hoped fervently that Fred and George would keep an eye on him.

"Welcome, Hogwarts!" Lee Jordan was commentating the match, it seemed. "We've got an exciting opening match ahead of us, with a good old-fashioned rivalry pairing. We've got a returning Slytherin team, led by that no-good fink Marcus Flint – "

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's voice cut over Lee's.

"Sorry, Professor!" Lee said cheerfully. "And on the Gryffindor side, two new members: Chaser Katie Bell, and Seeker Harry Potter!" Lee waited several moments while the fans either cheered or booed, depending on their affiliation. "And taking over command from recently graduated Charlie Weasley this year, fifth-year Oliver Wood!"

Lory resolved that next game, she would convince Lee to let her watch from the commentator's box – he could tell her what the moves were, and maybe she could keep him out of trouble in return. Moments after this resolution, the whistle was blown and all fourteen players were in the air. Lory glanced over at her friends: Hermione's eyes were fixed on Harry; the boys were watching the quaffle. She didn't know what Lavender and Parvati were watching, since they were bent over a Teen Witch magazine. When she refocused on the game, Lory's eyes were drawn to the Weasley twins. They worked together as only twins could: without any verbal communication, they were always in sync. Lory watched in awe as they swung their bats, sending the metal missiles called Bludgers speeding off, away from their team. She now understood why Fred and George loved this game so, why Harry loved to fly. Just sitting in the stands, Quidditch was an exhilarating experience for her.

"Hagrid, what's Harry doing?" Hermione's voice cut through Lory's focus some time later.

Lory's eyes found her brother instantly. He was shooting towards the ground, the Slytherin seeker right on his tail.

"He's seen the snitch." Hagrid answered, leaning forward. "This where it gets interesting."

Lory sucked in a deep breath and held it, staring at Harry with such an intensity that she missed Fred and George both hitting Bludgers directly towards Higgs, the Slytherin seeker. This caused the older boy to pull back to avoid injury. Harry cautiously lifted both hands from his broom handle, reaching for the snitch. Then, Lory shrieked: Harry tumbled off his broom onto the ground from a distance of about ten feet, clutching at his mouth.

"What's he doing?" Ron shouted.

Fred and George were swooping down to where Harry was coughing. Right before they touched down, Harry thrust his clenched fist in the air, grinning widely. He'd caught the snitch in his mouth.

"He's done it." Lory murmured, sitting back in her seat. "He's won."

"We won! We won!" Hermione cried, jumping excitedly. "Lory, it was wonderful!"

"What did I tell you?" Lory smiled up at her friend. "Sports aren't always awful."

Hagrid clapped Lory on the shoulder and excused himself, saying something about needing to take care of 'official Hogwarts business'. Ron, Hermione, and Lory waved him off cheerfully.

"Come on – there's probably going to be a party in the common room!" Ron whooped. "Fred and George always nick stuff from the kitchens. McGonagall's owled Mum about it loads of times."

"Sounds good." Lory smiled and joined Ron and Hermione as they left the crowded stands. Lory cast one last glance over her shoulder and saw the twins lifting Harry in a victorious manner. At that moment, her plans for the sticking solution clicked into place.

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The party was in full swing by the time Lory managed to sneak up to the third-year boy's dormitory to check on the sticking solution for the Weasleys. Satisfied that it was the correct consistency, Lory poured it into a large beaker, saving a smaller portion in a small phial. The beaker was left on Fred's bedside table and she pocketed the phial. She made her way back downstairs to where the twins were holding court.

"Oi!" George called when he spotted her, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed from excitement. "Lola! Why aren't you celebrating?"

"I am!" Lory called back, laughing. "I was just checking on your potions homework. It's done!"

In the blink of an eye, Lory was being strong-armed back up the stairs by two very excited redheads. Both boys ignored her half-hearted protests, as they always did, and she was deposited on George's bed once they had reached the dormitory. The twins both knelt by Fred's bed, staring intently at the beaker.

"It's perfect." Fred finally proclaimed.

"Almost like the professionally brewed stuff we got at Zonko's last Hogsmeade visit." George agreed, nodding.

"If you're nearly done ogling potions, I've a proposition for the two of you." Lory tucked her leg up underneath her body. "I want to prank Percy. I just need one of you to help me with the actual process."

"Do tell." George plunked himself down next to the girl.

"I want to stick his prefect badge to the ceiling."

"Freddie, d'you hear that?" George asked, his voice full of exaggerated pride. "She's brilliant. One of us has to marry her so that she never, ever goes away."

"Lorelai Potter," Fred dropped to one knee before Lory, taking her left hand gravely. "Will you do me the honour of someday becoming my bride?"

"No, Lola!" George cried dramatically, throwing himself onto the ground beside his brother. "Marry me! I'm the handsome one!"

"I'm older!"

"I'm more clever!"

"I'm taller!"

"Boys, boys!" Lory interrupted, laughing so hard her side hurt and she could scarcely breathe. "I see only one solution to this dilemma: I shall simply marry you both."

"Brilliant!" Fred and George shouted, jumping to their feet and whisking Lory around the room in an awkward three person waltz, humming the wedding march.

The trio collapsed in a heap of laughter after George tripped over Lee's trunk. For the first time since Halloween, Lory felt like she was truly happy.

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When Lory awoke on Monday morning, she dressed and brushed her teeth before stumbling groggily down to the common room. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were sitting at a table with an impossibly thick book. She joined them, yawning.

"G'morning." she managed before crossing her arms and leaning her head down on the table. Her unruly curls spread around her, much to her annoyance.

"Morning." Harry looked up and smiled at his sleepy sister. "Think you can help us?"

"Does this have to do with why you've been so secretive lately?" Lory pulled herself upright with a pout and twisted her hair up into a knot at the back of her head.

"Sort of." Harry admitted. Ron gave him a wide-eyed look of caution, and Hermione sighed wearily. "We think Snape is trying to steal something from the school."

"Why would you think that?" Lory frowned, irritated by Harry's cryptic explanation. "Did you find a drawer of office supplies marked 'Property of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' in his office?"

"No. That night that Malfoy challenged me to a midnight duel, we ran into the forbidden corridor on the third floor to escape from Filch. There's a great, three-headed dog down there, and it's guarding... something." Harry looked to Ron, who took up the tale.

"After we saved Hermione from the troll on Halloween, Snape's leg looked like it had been chewed up." Ron leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. "He's trying to get past the dog. We need you to help us work out why."

"Why me?" Lory asked, reaching for a piece of toast.

"Well, we figured you were more likely to get detention with him than we were." Ron shrugged.

Lory rolled her eyes, biting into her breakfast. She watched as the Weasley twins bent to speak to Marcus Flint at the Slytherin table with a slight frown, disregarding the quiet discussion Harry and Hermione were having across the table. Fred and George made their way over and took their seats at the table, causing the conversation to break off. Both of the older boys had mischievous little grins on their faces, and Lory knew they'd used their potion from the way they were watching the Slytherin table.

"You know, if you just went about your business as usual instead of looking like someone was about to give you a present, you wouldn't get caught as often." Lory commented.

"Oh, you flatter us." George brushed off her words. "Look, they're starting to realize what's going on."

Three boys at the Slytherin table were shaking their hands wildly, their voices rising. Lory glanced up at Fred, confusion on her face. He pressed a finger to his lips and pointed to the Slytherins, as though he was telling her to wait a moment and watch. She reached for another piece of toast, glancing at her watch.

"Really, Fred, I'm going to be late for class." She scowled up at him a few moments later.

"Professor!" Marcus Flint shouted, drawing the Gryffindors' attention to him. He waved his hand, and Lory saw his goblet attached to it. She stifled a laugh.

"What's going on here?" McGonagall swept down to control the commotion, Snape on her heels. "What's happened?"

"Professor, the Weasleys did something to our goblets and forks." Flint growled. "They're stuck on our hands."

"Fred and George Weasley, come with me." McGonagall rounded on the redheads.

"A moment, Professor McGonagall." Snape's quiet drawl stopped the woman from grabbing both Fred and George by the ears and dragging them out of the hall. "This sticking solution is too well done to be the work of these two. Miss Potter helped them."

Lory froze, her school bag halfway to her shoulder. She glanced over at Snape, making her eyes wide and innocent.

"Me, Professor?" She asked sweetly. "Why would you think it was me?"

"Really, Severus, what proof do you have that she was the one who brewed the potion?" McGonagall sighed.

"Both Messrs Weasley, as well as their usual companion Mr Jordan cannot brew a sticking solution to save their lives. Miss Potter is exceptionally gifted with potions work." Snape did not take his eyes from Lory, despite the fact that he was speaking to McGonagall.

"Miss Potter, please join us in my office." McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, ma'am." Lory hung her head and followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall, Fred and George whispering condolences and apologies to her.

"Miss Potter, I do not wish to believe Professor Snape just because you excel at potions, but I am afraid that it does look rather suspicious." McGonagall peered at the girl over her spectacles. "I am willing to give you detention without the loss of house points if you confess to being pressured into helping these two."

"I did help them, ma'am, but they didn't pressure me into it." Lory murmured.

"Hmph." McGonagall made an unimpressed noise, and Lory thought she saw disappointment in the woman's eyes. "You will have detention tomorrow night. Be in my office promptly at eight o'clock, if you please. Now, run off to your class and let me speak to Messrs Weasley."

Lory left the office, looking back at the door to her friends. Both boys were grinning at Professor McGonagall, seeming not to care in the slightest that they were about to receive detention for their five minutes of fun. Lory sighed. If Snape had anything to say about her detention the next day, she would be pickling slugs this time for sure.

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A/N: Sorry I lost steam at the end there. Again, review and receive a special prize: A snippet of the GoF prologue!


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